The Great Kharlan War
by The.Melanarchist
Summary: Kratos is a young Tethe'allan prince, Yuan is a young Sylvaranti commander. The raging war is slowly killing the world- together perhaps they can stop it. (Prequel to ToS) Chapter 23: A few secrets come to light, and a new mission is coined- all while Kratos refuses to play charades. Read XD!
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N) Yes, I know I have a few stories going... but c'mon, I couldn't let this plot idea get away... when my muse speaks, I listen. This might just be my favorite setting yet. Set during the tail end of the Great Kharlan War, Kratos is a Tethe'allan prince, and Yuan is a Sylvaranti commander. A Tales of Symphonia prequel, and revolves around some of my favorite people at much younger ages...Please R&R. **

**Disclaimer: You've heard this before, so sorry I am not the actual owner. Not really, YOU should be sorry for assuming such, because it pains me deeply to admit such a terrible truth. The real world hurts. So escape into the world of Symphonia!**

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_**Chapter 1**_

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Kratos ran a hand through his hair. It was becoming a nervous habit, and part of his mind was telling himself that it wasn't proper. He didn't really give a damn about that part. He glanced back up at the half-elf servant as if expecting her to take back her words, or somewhat hoping. The woman shook her head sadly, silvery locks swaying to emphasize the gesture.

"I'm sorry sir." She tried to give a reassuring smile, but failed spectacularly. Good thing Kratos wasn't paying her anymore attention. The door clicked softly behind her as she left, and he allowed himself to sink in to the nearest chair, shoulders visibly slumping. His pride wouldn't allow him to look so weak in front of anyone but himself.

Aether was dead.

The last of his living brothers had died in battle, in what was long considered pointless bloodshed. His hands were trembling slightly, and he squeezed them into fists to stop the shaking. He should be used to loss by now, after Thetis and Typhon fell to the same fate. It still hurt something awful. His brother's smiling face, marred only by the stubborn strand of his dark almost-black hair, kept surging to the forefront of his mind. Kratos sunk further into the cushions in a poor attempt to blot out the coursing memories. Aether would never smile again, his bright russet eyes, a strong family trait, would never flash in mischief again. Kratos sighed. The grief was crushing. Aether had only been twenty, and his life was already cut so short. Pushing himself out of the chair, Kratos stood and surveyed his appearance in the ornately decorated mirror placed atop the mahogany desk. His auburn locks were askew as usual, but his expression was one of agony. He reeled in the emotion, and straightened his tunic the best he could. Schooling his facial features into a semblance of indifference, Kratos tried to look composed. His ailing father would need serious support after this blow, assuming he'd even heard.

Sweeping yet another hand through his spiky hair, Kratos averted his gaze and strode purposefully for the door. He couldn't shake the feeling that Aether's eyes were watching him through that horrified expression, and grotesque images of how his body might look now, gnarled and disfigured haunted his walk. His father was in his chambers, as he almost always was these days. His sickness had grown worse since Thetis had passed several years ago. The man could only lose so many sons before he broke, and it seemed that his body was finally failing him. Two Tethe'allan knights guarded his father's chambers, rigid and noble in their vigil. In a vain endeavor to distract himself, Kratos recalled how he'd always admired the armored uniforms of the knights with their shining chest plates and simple country crest. They looked proud and defiant in the face of death. The wide hallway echoed loudly with Kratos' even cadence of steps, while approaching his father's chamber door he paused briefly.

"How is he faring?" While aiming for a casual tone, Kratos found he hit more of a melancholy note when directing his question at one of the knights. The man met his eyes understandingly and gave a short shake of the head.

"His highness isn't taking it well." Kratos exhaled sharply, though he could only have expected as much. He forced the enormous set of doors open. Every noise was almost painfully loud in the thick silence. His father lay limply in the rather large bed, and Nyx wept quietly at his bedside. Nyx, his older sister, with her long brown locks and brown eyes had been the only one of them to inherit their mother's looks. Kratos couldn't help but acknowledge that they were all that remained of the once five children. Two of five. She had just turned nineteen the past week, and was looking forward to have Aether return from the war front and celebrate. Kratos turned an eye to his feeble father, and almost broke his strong facade at the sight. The man looked frail and weak with sickness, but tears were streaming freely down his face upon hearing the news. The thick red quilt that covered him was dotted with dark, wet patches from his mourning. Kratos embraced his sister and sat at his father's bedside. Aside from the extravagantly decorated head board, it was easy to imagine that this man wasn't the king of Tethe'alla, simply a sad man grieving his dead son. Nyx blew her nose loudly into a handkerchief. She had always been the proper one, knowing what to say, what to do, and when to do it. Kratos didn't know how to console his broken family, what was left of it anyway, and he simply held his father's quivering hand until the tears ceased flowing.

"He fought till the very end. They told me so." Nyx sobbed softly. That sounded like Aether. He was everyone's favorite, their father included. Charismatic, strong, and courageous, Kratos could never imagine him dying. Not Aether, he was immune to the rules of mortals, he always found loopholes.

"He shouldn't have had to." Kratos sighed almost angrily. The war had gone on long enough; death had touched too many lives for there to be any gain left in triumph. Even if they were to win today, what sacrifices had they made to do so?

"You know as well as I that it is either victory or death." His father managed to find his sternest, most royal voice as reprimand. They had never seen eye to eye about the war, which consumed everything in the kingdom. "If we lose, the Sylvaranti would like nothing less than to murder all of Tethe'alla and finally be rid of us." Kratos turned his head and bit his tongue before he said anything more to agitate him. The Sylvaranti were just as sick of the war as he was, he imagined, it had gone on for as long as he could remember and much earlier than even the half-elves working in the castle could remember. It had gone on for several hundred years, and obviously it was set in stone that such an amount of time could not be wasted arbitrarily for a simple cease-fire. His silence didn't please his father, who must have desired a hearty agreement.

"Aether will not have died in vain!" He raised his trembling voice, "As the next in line to be king, you need to understand that!" Kratos' eyes jerked sharply to his father's own reddish orbs. He narrowed his gaze. Aether was to be the next king. Not him.

"I don't want it." Kratos all but hissed. He wanted no part of this pool of blood, this luxury in perdition, this empty excuse for a family. When Aether had died, so had the heart of their dynasty. Kratos was the youngest; he had always been left to his own devices, and most certainly never troubled with prospects of inheriting the throne.

"Give it to Nyx, she's older, and more fit to rule thousands of people." It was true, though a woman had not ruled for many generations, it was not unheard of. Nyx would be a great queen. The king shook his head, and his graying hair hung damply over his ears.

"The son always precedes the daughter, Kratos. You will be king, and I will not allow you to lead the military as is custom. I can't lose you, too." Kratos stood defiantly, ripping his hand out of his father's. He had never wanted to be forced into battle, but breaking tradition for his own simple protection was cowardly, especially when such a decision would have spared Thetis, Typhon, and Aether.

"If we're breaking tradition, then you can transfer the sovereignty to Nyx. She'd do a much better job than I could ever do." Kratos had put to use his calm demeanor, holding his emotions by the tightest leash. He was sure he would snap any moment. Nyx, meanwhile, sat stick straight and looked at him with pleading eyes, albeit tear streaked. He knew it was a lot to ask of her, but she was so much more prepared than he was. She saw that.

"Father, he's only fifteen." Nyx coaxed solemnly, "Don't force this on him." Kratos was still standing, waiting for a response from the king to dictate his actions.

"Kratos," he said at last, "you must, if Sylvarant smells weakness, or even suspects such in our bloodline, the war we've been fighting for will be lost as soon as they pick us off." His voice had become faint and strained, "Tethe'alla cannot have faith if it doesn't have a decisive leader, and we will fall apart with this kind of dispute for the throne. As much as I hate to admit it, no one will accept Nyx as the heir." Kratos grit his teeth and practically smoldered with anger.

"Won't accept her? She's your daughter! I'd be perfectly fine if we lost this damn war and ended it!" His voice was raised to a mutinous yell and he stormed out of the room without being dismissed. The knights flinched as the slight boy blew through the doors radiating fury and ignoring calls from the king to return.

Kratos had finally decided. He was leaving.

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Yuan slunk through the streets silently. He liked to think he was agile and panther-like with his stealth skills; it's what got him accepted into the Sylvaranti army. They usually didn't take half-elves, or even elves on pure discrimination. He had told them he was an elf, of course, but that didn't make his acceptance any less extraordinary. Everyone knew that most 'elves' were just half-elves seeking some kind of relief. It made his rise to commander even more noteworthy and this important mission an honor to undertake. Obviously he was the best at what he did. He paused briefly in his musing to yank his cape off of a wooden box it had snagged on. An iron pan tipped off of the top of the container after a particularly forceful tug and it came crashing to the bricked ground with a formidable clank. Yuan cringed at his momentary lapse in concentration.

At least the cities were nearly empty at this time of night; Meltokio especially had a sort of curfew ever since the war started. It had taken him ages to find a chink in their lines to slip behind. Finally he was here, no worse for wear, but without a real clue which direction the castle was in. The Sylvaranti had little to no intelligence of this city since before the war had begun, and that was ages ago. Everything looked like it had been shifted from the maps he'd studied, and the darned place was enormous. In his opinion it topped Palmacosta as a capital city any day. As much as he hated to admit it, he was lost. Yuan slowed to a halt, finally accepting defeat for now. It would look fairly suspicious if he waited any longer to check into an inn for the night.

His new name was Yuan Hirozaki, lest they have heard of his spectacular accomplishments during the war as Yuan Kaafei, and he was a traveling merchant pioneering the market in Meltokio for the first time. He sold weapons and armor, and was checking to discover what might sell well in this fair city. It would be a good excuse for his militaresque outfit that he'd needed to sneak past the highly fortified defenses of the Tethe'allan army, and it would also explain his failure to navigate the city well.

Yuan spotted one of the many inns, and hoping he could afford it, pushed open the heavy tavern doors. The inside was faintly glowing and not quiet in the slightest. No one payed the late night traveler any mind, possibly because his blue hair pulled back sharply into a ponytail signified elven blood. Even elves were left alone by humans, and Yuan was perfectly happy with his low profile. He checked in to the inn, cursing himself slightly at the price. He could only stay two nights in this town before he ran completely broke of gald. Walking up silently to his room, the wooden floorboards creaked reassuringly. He would complete his goal the next day anyway, he didn't need an extra night.

It was common knowledge that the King of Tethe'alla was ailing, he might pass any day now, or so the rumors said. If handled correctly, this momentary weakness of leadership could finish the war. Never before had the royal line been so vulnerable, and Yuan knew that the monarch had always insisted his sons to lead on the front lines. He'd fought with a few of them. They were trained incredibly well, but lacked good battle strategy, and Yuan knew the king was regretting allowing his last son to fight with the regulars. Yuan knew for a fact that he only had one son still alive and the youngest at that. Without the royal line of the Aurions in place, the entire Tethe'allan army would be in disarray. Now was the best time to strike. He was sent to capture and bring back the last remaining son. Perhaps with their heir in the enemies' hands, a peaceful surrender could be negotiated. Nevertheless, the boy, Kratos, was his mission to retrieve. Yuan was going to end this war.

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**(A/N) So yea, I have the first three chapters pre-written so expect an update soon! Tell me where you might want this to go, I'm open to plot ideas!**


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N) Second chapter up! Things are going to pick up now that the setting has been laid out... I just love how Yuan and Kratos' personalities clash, their banter always makes me smile. Anyways, please read and review! (feedback is greatly appreciated!)**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Tales of Symphonia, you'd get the Kratos ending every time, and there'd be a prequel. Sadly, I do not.**

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_**Chapter 2**_

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Kratos tightened his belt and strapped in his sheath. He wore a common brown tunic and leather boots, simple attire for a relatively well-off boy of his age. The army didn't accept people under the age of eighteen, so he didn't have to worry about being drafted under his new persona. He swept a hand through his hair and pulled on his greaves. He looked ordinary, and loved every second of it. The comfort and the spoils of the castle life sickened him to no end. How could they live in luxury when there were good people dying to protect their capital? Kratos scoffed silently to himself, he scribbled a short note to explain his absence to Nyx. She of all people deserved an explanation. Things would be better off like this. He was planning to slip by unnoticed to Asgard and lay low for a while. After the direct line of the throne was passed over himself and officially given to Nyx, he might return, but he couldn't stand this place much longer. Kratos had a strong sense of right and wrong, and the wanton death and stubborn will to continue fighting was an affront to his very nature. In his letter, he waived his right to the throne. Listening softly at the door, Kratos heard breathing. Kratos knew that his father had posted guards in the hallway by his room, he could hear them walk over, and the steps had never receded.

Kratos allowed a small smirk to grace his features; finally he was going to have some fun. He opened the shuttered windows as wide as he could, peering down the castle's beautiful stone walls. Balconies were higher above him, and ledges would supply the footholds he needed to descend. It was still early, not a person was in sight on this side of the castle, and the nobility had their dwellings just past the gate ahead. Kratos hoisted himself out the window and perched on the sill. It was only three stories, hardly a challenge with his training. Quietly and gracefully, Kratos slipped from ledge to ledge, avoiding the incriminating eyes of the other windows. His boots landed softly on the grass below, and Kratos gave the castle a final glance. Turning around, he felt a surge of joy surface. He was free at last.

He casually sauntered into town. He was the only son of a low ranking noble, autonomous and on visit to some relatives in Meltokio. He was leaving today for Asgard, the neutral border city between Tethe'alla and Sylvarant, in order to check up on his aunt. His new name would be Daisuke Hayato, and though his nose wrinkled at the name, it was generic enough to be of any class and utterly forgettable. He thought he could blend in quite nicely. Not to mention he could easily handle himself on solitary travel. Kratos only had to pause briefly in the market before he'd be on his way. He didn't want to take any supplies from the castle, or they'd have an idea of how long he'd plan on traveling and narrow their search down considerably. Also, Kratos hated the notion of stealing of any sort, and yes he did live there, but they weren't his things. The Meltokio market was bustling as usual, and Kratos weaved his way through the crowd. He paused in front of one of the vendors, a grubby man with an apron and a wide smile.

"Can I help you, boy?" the man asked amiably, gesturing to his assortment of gels. Kratos pulled a bit of gald out of his pocket and purchased a fair quantity of apple and orange gels before nodding brusquely and moving on. His armor was fine, blade perfect, and he really only needed a few bottles, preferably holy and life to stay under the radar. Kratos turned to enter the flow of Tethe'allan citizens, and nearly ran right in to a man walking in the wrong direction. Kratos couldn't help but roll his eyes at the man's idiocy. Everyone knew that you walked on the right hand side.

"Sorry," Kratos said as politely as he could muster, though he shouldn't be the one apologizing.

"It's no bother," the man obviously hadn't taken the hint at Kratos' edgy tone, and was dusting himself off. He had turquoise hair pulled back into a long ponytail that swept over his dark cape. He had obviously been travelling, if his outfit was anything to go by, and Kratos narrowed his eyes at the man's expression. The half-elf's face had closed up, and he looked rather suspicious for a moment. As if nothing had happened, he smiled in a friendly manner.

"Yes, excuse me, I'm new here." Kratos had an intense desire to keep walking. It wasn't that he didn't like half-elves. He actually found them good company, but this particular half-elf was a character he didn't want to deal with while making his escape.

"Really, I hadn't noticed." Kratos deadpanned. The man couldn't be too much older than him, probably around eighteen at the latest. The man picked up on Kratos' try at sarcasm and scowled.

"Could you direct me to the castle?" He looked like it took all of his energy to maintain his civil demeanor and Kratos smirked at his obvious ignorance.

"_Sir,_" Kratos stressed the word and feigned oblivion, "you _are _in Meltokio." The man now looked pissed at his disrespectful manner, "If you don't know where the castle is, then surely you have no business being there." Kratos chuckled shortly and walked past the man who was now bristling with discomfort. Somehow Kratos didn't think his intentions were good anyway, not like the castle guards couldn't handle him, but at least he'd made their jobs simpler.

"Hey," The man spun to keep his attention, now looking near murderous. "What's your problem, kid?" Kratos felt a spurn of anger at the man, very near to his own age, calling him a kid. Sharp movement behind the elven teenager, however, drew Kratos' gaze. Crap. Tethe'allan royal guards were walking through the square, checking with vendors and civilians. Their gleaming armor flashed in the morning sun, and three of them were very near to where he made his first purchase. The salesman could easily point him out. There was only one reason they could be here at this time of day, and Kratos let out a string of mental curses. He'd taken far too long already, and he hadn't expected them to discover his absence so quickly. His mind reeled and frantically looked for the best escape route. An alleyway lay off to his left hand side and Kratos contemplated bolting right then and there.

The pissed half-elf was the problem; he would probably make a scene. Kratos angled his body behind the blue-haired man's and saw one of the guards making conversation with the grubby gel vendor. He did his best to look apologetic.

"Right, sorry." his expression was made more believable because of his urgency, "The castle's this way. I'll show you." He inclined his head to the left and broke out in a quick trot down the alley way and around the corner with a reluctant half-elf in tow.

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Yuan furrowed his brow at the rude boy's change in demeanor. It was true that his intentions were less than honorable, but the kid didn't know that. He felt like the teenager saw straight through his false identity. How could he though? He was so discreet; he blended in perfectly with the local society. Admittedly, he _had_ been walking in the wrong direction, but everything else had been spot on. The boy had a smug look on his face most of the time, but his eyes flashed after he'd spun around. Obviously he disliked Yuan, but then he decided to be polite and show him the way? Fat chance. Yuan twisted briefly to look behind him before following the red-haired teen. His eyes widened at the glistening armor of the palace guards, the insignia on their helmets said as much. Quickly, he jogged after the boy who conveniently turned a corner and out of sight. Why were palace guards patrolling the market?

That was what the kid had seen, and why he changed moods so swiftly. The corner of Yuan's mouth twitched upward. So this kid was running from the royal guard? What had _he_ gotten into? Now Yuan had leverage. The kid kept up a pretty decent blasé mask and Yuan had to give it to him. He was almost believable.

"It's down this alley, and to the right, then the left." The boy shrugged and headed off in the opposite direction he told Yuan to go. Clever kid. Yuan stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, eliciting a scowl and accompanying glare. A lesser person might have quaked, the glare was that terrifying. Yuan held his ground though, meeting the russet eyes head on.

"Not so fast." Yuan felt like he'd won, "I need you to show me." The kid quirked an auburn eyebrow, matching his unruly mess of hair. Without even trying, he was practically exuding an 'I just told you how to get there, idiot' aura that made Yuan uncomfortable.

"You seem to really want to avoid those palace guards, and I really need to get to the castle." Yuan felt pleased as the kid's scowl deepened, "Maybe we can both get what we want." He straightened his cape while watching the boy's mind whirl. He seemed to be calculating the risks. He leaned against the wall cockily, his blade sheathed at his side clinked against the stone bricks as an emphasis to his casual attitude.

"What do you want to do at the castle?" He folded his arms across his chest, and at Yuan's silence added, "I am a Tethe'allan patriot, and if your goals are anything less than pure, I should turn you in right now." His eyes narrowed. God, for a fifteen-year-old, this kid was almost scary.

"I have an audience with the king," Yuan replied smoothly, "You see, I'm a traveling merchant, and I need permission to sell my wares from Asgard here in Meltokio." He'd aced that one. The boy snorted, however, and Yuan's pleased grin dimmed perceptibly.

"For starters, it's no secret that the king is ill, and he's not seeing anyone. Secondly, he doesn't grant vending permissions, that's a counsel thing." Yuan froze, grin still in place albeit faded. The boy's eyes shot dangerously up to his.

"I've been to Asgard, though I can't remember seeing you there. What do you _sell_?" The boy's smirk was back in full force and Yuan slumped.

"So what." He replied weakly, "Why the hell do you know so much about royal propriety?" There the kid stiffened ever so slightly.

"Doesn't matter, either way, I'm not letting you anywhere near the castle." The kid's tone was final. Now it was Yuan's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"How does a boy running from the law keep an excellent fighter such as myself from getting where I want to go?" He had his dignity left, and the kid was bent on cutting it down. Now the boy looked affronted, as if he was insulted by the implication he might lose in a fight.

"You know, you really need to stop acting like you're so much older than me. I'm not a kid. I'll stop you if I feel like it." Yuan rolled his eyes at that. It looked like he had a tag-along.

"I never caught your name." Yuan made idle conversation as he walked in the direction the boy had been previously headed. He looked like he was contemplating using the 'I never gave it' reply, but simply decided against it.

"Daisuke Hayato" Ah, so it was an alias then. Stupid clever kid with his generic names. "And you?" Yuan figured he'd have to reciprocate the gesture, though both new that the names were nothing more than a ruse to make them both more comfortable. What a strange game indeed.

"Yuan Hirozaki" 'Daisuke' scoffed at the common last name and almost smiled at the irony. He ran a hand through his spiky hair and followed the suspicious half-elf down the alley way. Yuan felt his cape billowing comically and for once wished it wasn't as long when he felt the boy's piercing eyes on his back.

"Just out of interest, what was down that alley, to the right, then the left?" Yuan asked, mildly curious and willing to do many things to keep the boy's focus off of himself. The kid's mouth twitched and his eyes flashed in amusement. His hand rested on the hilt of his blade as if that was where it always sat.

"Just a platoon of Tethe'allan regulars set to relieve the front lines." Yuan narrowed his eyes, this boy was going to be tricky to outsmart if he was going to ever complete his mission.

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**(A/N) Thanks for reading... next chapter will be out soon! Review please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**(A/N) Another fast update! Hope y'all enjoy this chapter...Please Read and Review!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own.**

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_**Chapter 3**_

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Kratos didn't trust this man, but perhaps he could use him as a ticket out. The guards were everywhere now; he'd missed his easy escape by getting too caught up in his freedom. There was no doubt that the exits and entrances to Meltokio were more heavily guarded than ever. Why couldn't his father just let go of the prospect of him ever being king? He figured it was time for him to cut to the chase. The man he was walking next to was so clearly Sylvaranti. He'd had to have gotten in under the radar somehow.

"Hey, Yuan." The man's head jerked up quickly. Hm. Maybe 'Yuan' was his real name after all, Kratos mused briefly, "We both know you're Sylvaranti, so how'd you get in?" The teenager looked completely taken aback at Kratos' comment, but even more so at his curious expression. He was genuinely interested in simply how he got there, not cursing his guts for being his arch-enemy.

"What gives you that idea?" Yuan muttered defensively. Kratos simply shrugged.

"It doesn't exactly take a royal education to figure that out," the man stuck out like a sore thumb, apparently he didn't see it that way, though. Yuan fixed another hard look on him. "I'm just trying to get out." Kratos sighed, "You've seen those guards, too. There's no way I can slip through an exit."

"So you know I'm Sylvaranti. It's only fair that you tell me what you did to get so much attention." Kratos shook his head.

"I'm not an idiot." Yuan looked disappointed and paused in his tracks.

"Oh, that's right. You're a _Tethe'allan patriot_ happily conversing with a Sylvaranti spy. Care to explain that much?" Yuan spat irately. Kratos met a questioning glance. Apparently he had confused the man quite a bit with his casual attitude.

"I don't hate you for where you were born, or what you feel obligated to do." Kratos replied simply. "To be completely honest, I just want this stupid war over with. Too many people have died." Aether, Thetis, and Typhon flashed through his mind painfully evoking strong memories. Yuan looked surprised yet again. "I still wouldn't let you kill the king, though." Kratos narrowed his eyes a second time and choked back the emotion threatening to stir up.

"Oh, I wasn't going to kill the king!" Yuan responded hastily, as if that was too underhanded for him. Though being a 'spy' as he so aptly put it, Kratos imagined underhanded was really his sort of thing. This was greatly contradicted as Yuan vehemently shook his head.

"Whatever you say," Kratos had more important things to deal with than a Sylvaranti with skewed morals. He peered around the next corner, which fortunately was devoid of guards. Yuan followed him with an amused glance at his cautionary antics. Kratos shot him a glare in retaliation and was pleased to see his expression falter. He'd never lost a staring contest.

"Running the risk of repeating myself, how did you get in?" Kratos was now fully facing him, gaze intense. His burnet eyes had the quality of smoldering embers, and Yuan seemed surprised that he was capable of such gravity.

"Ah, well" Yuan stammered, Kratos knew that the sooner Yuan got rid of him, the easier it would be to finish his task. It was in his best interest to help him. "The sewers lead right under the main gate." He still looked hesitant, as if by admitting such information, Kratos could find a way to arrest him on the spot. The sewers then, Kratos contemplated that route. To get a big enough entrance, he'd have to back track through the busiest part of town and cut through the western part of the market. On the bright side, he doubted many guards would be patrolling the city's center.

"That's not a bad idea" he murmured, still deep in thought. The clanking of armor resounded around the corner of the street, and loud voices conversing. Kratos swore under his breath and ducked back into the alley. Light on his feet, he slipped into the dark shadows that were cast about when the sun was at such an early slant. Now that Yuan knew he wasn't the one being pursued, he allowed more of a laid-back attitude.

Several soldiers with the royal crest engraved into their armor rounded the corner at a brisk pace, at the sight of Yuan, one of them made their way to talk to him earnestly.

"Uh," upon closer inspection the guard had realized he was a half-elf and shifted uncomfortably, "Excuse me, sir, but have you seen this young man?" He held a photo of 'Daisuke' in a noble's outfit and not looking too pleased about wearing it. Yuan kept a blank face.

"What did he do exactly?" He pretended to angle his head for a better look. At that question, his elven senses could hear 'Daisuke's' feet stalling as if about to bolt. He felt a triumphant gleam in his eyes as he patiently waited for a response. The soldier, however, looked at him blankly as if he should know.

"He's King Aurion's son, next in line for the throne" that explained the look. "Sir Kratos went missing this morning." Yuan fought to keep his face blank.

"Oh, I apologize, I haven't seen him." He waved the guards away. As soon as they rounded the next bend, he whipped into the alleyway. It was too late; Kratos had taken off for the sewers.

That boy had been royalty? He certainly hadn't acted like a prince. More importantly, he had been Yuan's reason for searching out the castle and _he_ was his mission. How had he missed that? If anything, the russet eyes should've been a huge give away. Really, who has red eyes other than the Aurion family? The boy certainly seemed special, and that made his ignorance of the fact that Yuan was both a half-elf and Sylvaranti increasingly abnormal. Yuan took off at a sprint down the alleyway, trying to remember the path that might take him fastest to the sewer system entrance. If Kratos left Meltokio, he might never find him again. That also begged the question, why was he leaving? Yuan just hoped that he was quick enough to find out. He had the benefit of not being chased by palace guards, hopefully that would slow _Kratos _down.

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Kratos was a fast sprinter, and in circumstances like these he was grateful for that. Unfortunately, his above-average run was greatly tarnished by the fact that he had to stop at every corner and often back track and loop around to avoid the guards. They should definitely get points for persistence. He peered around the next building. Clear. He was nearly to the sewer entrance, and then it would be a straight shot out of there.

That Yuan character, however helpful he might seem, was still a Sylvaranti spy. His knowing that he was a Tethe'allan prince would stab Kratos in the back sooner or later. Hopefully, the half-elf wouldn't follow him and just put his mind to whatever purpose he was originally here for. Now, though, Meltokio had become a prison of sorts, and he had to break out. Not to mention if he was caught now, his pride might never recover. Kratos was capable, if it came down to a fight, there was no doubt he could best his opponent.

The exciting pace at which his day was running was at least a tad more interesting than the bleary routine of castle life. Kratos crossed a couple of streets stealthily. He was close now. The sewers would be easy to get to if it weren't for the miniature manhole covers dotted around the city. Sewers were a relatively sound technology, but people didn't like to remember they were there beneath their feet. Stupid aesthetics. Kratos only knew of one manhole cover large enough for a person to fit through, and that was often just for repairs. He was glad that he'd payed attention during the sanitation presentation his father had been forced to endure when he was still well. You never did know when something might come in handy.

The manhole cover was unguarded, as expected, and Kratos kept an eye out for the blue haired Sylvaranti. He was relieved that he was alone, and lifted the cover to slip inside the dank chamber.

Firstly, the smell was god awful, and its assault on his nose had to be illegal. Secondly it was dark, and Kratos pulled his only holy bottle out of his bag. The faint glow was enough to illuminate the narrow pathway ahead of him, carving sharp lines through the river of sludge. The things he'd do to escape. Kratos squared his shoulders and set off down the narrow walkway. His footsteps were drowned out by the sound of flowing water.

* * *

Yuan had made it all the way through the sewers, and he was fairly certain that he'd beat Kratos there. There was no sign of the boy's most definitely rushed passage, and at the speed Yuan had blown through, he was sure he would have caught up if he were behind. He smiled. That meant the young prince was coming up behind him anytime now. Unsuspecting. The element of surprise was invaluable when dealing with this kid. Not that he couldn't win in an even fight, Yuan quickly corrected himself. He definitely could.

Either way, he loitered about by the entrance he had taken into the city, finally settling behind a concrete beam. Now to wait, it would probably be a while. Yuan's self esteem took a cut for the worse when he heard the light tread of footsteps not twenty seconds after he had hid. Damn that kid was _fast_ if he'd already managed to circumvent platoons of guards and navigate quickly through the maze of sewer system. Yuan had only gotten through that rapidly due to knowledge from his trip in. The boy could handle himself pretty well. There was no room for error now. He silently readied his weapon, a wide two-handed butterfly blade, knowing he'd have to use it. Kratos was fast approaching, and Yuan was sick of playing his game. So far, the kid had outsmarted him at every turn, and he was so close to slipping out of his grasp.

Sure enough, the auburn haired teen stepped into the light and blinked at the sun, his hand ever resting on the hilt of his blade. Yuan waited patiently for him to pass and his back to be turned. He stepped from his hiding place without hesitation, spinning his butterfly blade to squarely point at Kratos' neck. The boy tensed and Yuan smirked. Gotcha. God did winning feel good.

"Hey, _Kratos_, I'm gonna need you to come with me."

* * *

"Hn" Kratos all but rolled his eyes at the voice of his half-elf acquaintance. He should have been expecting _that_ with such a delay to his escape. However much he might want to chat, capture by the Sylvaranti was not an option today. With his signature, lightning-fast draw, Kratos whirled to face his new opponent and twisted the side of his blade to catch Yuan's peculiar one. The half-elf had better reflexes than he had expected, though not quite good enough.

The man looked utterly shocked at his risky maneuver, and Kratos used that to his advantage to push off and jump a safe distance away. Yuan was warily sizing him up. Hopefully he had some respect for him now. Kratos gave him his best Aurion glare, and Yuan's eye twitched. Point Kratos.

"You can't really think it would be that simple?" Kratos laughed, swinging his blade down and across, mockingly leaving a wide target. Yuan twitched again. Kratos 2, Yuan 0.

"Dammit, why can't you just be a predictable teenager?" He spouted coarsely. Kratos arched an eyebrow tauntingly.

"You clearly underestimate me." Kratos dryly observed. Yuan shrugged.

"Perhaps I do. I don't think I'll make that mistake again." His gaze sharpened coolly. Kratos peered back into the sewage tunnel.

"I don't suppose any one followed you, then." He sighed with some measure of relief, "So your actual name is...?" Kratos left the question open ended. It was only fair now that he knew his identity. Yuan seemed to accept that much.

"Yuan Kaafei, Sylvaranti commander of the Triet regiment." He stood a bit straighter when reciting his base of command, and Kratos noted with some disdain that Yuan was several inches taller than himself, he put it down to the age difference.

"So Yuan _Kaafei_, how exactly is this going to work?" Kratos inclined his head to their given situation and twirled his blade in preparation. Yuan's eyes darted around their location. Reluctantly, he spoke again, this time with an almost pleading tone.

"I don't suppose you'd come quietly?" He was practically wistful. Kratos felt his mouth twitch in amusement. This guy sure was a character.

"Not likely." Kratos angled his body into a fighting stance. "I don't suppose you'd let me just walk away, then?" Yuan let out a bitter chuckle.

"Not likely." Kratos hefted his perfectly balanced sword in one hand. As much as he desired to avoid violence, there was no other way to do what he needed to. If he happened to kick the half-elf's butt and serve him a heaping portion of humility along the way, then so be it. It might even be fun.

* * *

Yuan struck first, lashing his thick blade towards Kratos' right hand side. He was fast on his feet, and Kratos readily brought up his own sword to parry. Pushing Yuan's weapon upward, he swung his own back around to the Sylvaranti's undefended side. The man side stepped, but not fast enough to spare the ends of his ponytail from being clipped off as he jerked his head back. Soon, their blades were caught in a flurry of light and heavy blows, clashes reverberating across their makeshift arena. Kratos realized that Yuan was trying to pin him in a corner, so he feigned right and ducked under Yuan's blocking arm to slip a couple yards further away.

"Demon Fang," He called as he summoned mana into his strike. Yuan was caught off-guard, and the blow hit him in the leg, but he kept his footing. Yuan had yet to use any magic, but he was having some difficulty finding any opening with Kratos on him so ferociously. He never remembered the other Aurion sons having fought so well, and this kid was only a teenager. He had potential, but that wasn't what Yuan was supposed to be focused on. If this kept up for too much longer, someone was bound to notice the ominous battle noises this near to Meltokio. If that happened, Yuan was as good as dead. He did not need to be seen fighting with the recently MIA prince of Tethe'alla. Just narrowly blocking another swipe of Kratos' blade, Yuan did his best to prolong the strike. The muscles in his arm strained under the effort, and Kratos' eyes went wide when he realized what Yuan was doing. Too late, Yuan was pleased to observe. He finished chanting the short spell under his breath, and felt the mana in him stir.

"Wind blade!" Kratos attempted to dodge left, and was nearly successful. His shoulder got caught in the sharp current of air and sent him backwards into the cement pillar Yuan had chosen as his hiding spot. His head hit hard on the grayish stone and he slumped to the ground unconscious. The blow wasn't actually that hard, and Yuan was disappointed he didn't have the time to cast another stronger spell. Wind blade was elementary, but it had gotten the job done. He allowed himself to be pleased at his victory, if not a little annoyed that it was a fifteen year old that had put up such a fight.

When Kratos woke up, he'd leave out the bit about the fall doing all the damage, as opposed to his magic. He'd won fair and square. Yuan walked over to the limp body and removed Kratos' sword and sheath. He hid them behind a few rocks. He wouldn't need that any more. Kneeling by the kid's side, he swung one of Kratos' arm around his neck and limped awkwardly on while supporting the boy's dead weight. Hopefully he could get out of Tethe'alla territory before nightfall. Sure the boy had a couple good shots, but winning a few battles never did you any good if you couldn't follow through. Yuan was going to win the war.

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**(A/N) That was pretty lengthy for me. Review! XD**


	4. Chapter 4

**(A/N) I just can't leave this story alone. Luckily, this means quick updates! Anyhow, I am rather pleased how this chapter turned out. I'd like to thank my repeated reviewers, as well as those who faved and alerted this story. It's good to know people are reading. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: *sigh* We've been through this before.**

* * *

_**Chapter 4**_

"Damn magic." Kratos muttered. He groaned and opened his eyes. Slants of light poured down through nearby tree branches, and his head was throbbing something terrible.

"Finally awake, are you?" The half-elf buzzed cheerfully at his side.

Kratos let out an impressive string of curses at his company and tried to shake off the dizziness that seemed to envelop him. He couldn't seem to get his thoughts together. Which meant he had a concussion. Just excellent.

"What the hell did you do?" Kratos spat irately. Yuan smirked at his discomfort. Apparently Kratos decided now of all times to start acting like a prince.

"Well, you're definitely cranky when you wake up," he ruffled Kratos' already mussed hair as he stood up. Kratos winced as Yuan bumped his freshest new bruise. He attempted to raise a hand to deflect it, but frowned as his arm tugged against brittle binding instead.

"Ropes, really?" Kratos glared, "You insult me." His wrists were already working the complex knot, but the rope was thick and the knot was tight.

"At least you're capable of walking now," Yuan sighed. A rare stricken look crossed Kratos' face, appalled at the thought of the Sylvaranti carrying him.

"You didn't." How else would he have gotten there, though? He didn't recognize this particular stretch of forest, but that didn't mean they weren't still in Tethe'alla. He had no idea how long he was out. He had the semblance of an idea that it was later in the day that they'd fought, but he wasn't sure.

"But I did," Yuan frowned slightly, "You're a lot heavier than you look." Kratos inwardly groaned. He'd been stupid to have not noticed the half-elf's spell until he was nearly finished chanting it. How could he have lost so easily? It was shameful. He wouldn't let an anomaly like that happen twice. He looked around himself and evaluated his possessions.

"Where's my sword?" He asked with a hint of panic in his usually calm tone. He couldn't lose it.

"It's not like I'd keep that around!" Yuan shot him a quizzical look. He thought the kid was smarter than that. Kratos figured he'd probably never see it again and sighed before awkwardly standing without using his arms.

"C'mon," Yuan gestured, "Time to get going."

"Hn." Kratos dragged his feet a bit. If they got into Sylvarant, he would have a much harder time escaping. His hand twitched, aching for his hilt. He couldn't believe he'd lost it. Maybe if he broke free, then he could convince the Sylvaranti teen to tell him where he'd stashed it. That was unreasonable, though. He wasn't thinking straight. Kratos scolded himself for even courting the notion.

* * *

Yuan witnessed Kratos' hand jerk involuntarily and paused in his march. He didn't know why he cared, but call it curiosity, he wanted to find out.

"What was so special about it?" He asked while nudging Kratos to resume walking. Kratos, however, was not really in the mood to chat, possibly even more averse to it than usual.

"None of your business." His laconic reply was aptly accompanied by a pointed glance of 'Shut up, Sylvaranti'. And just like that they were enemies again. Though, when they had ever ceased being adversaries, Yuan couldn't say. Perhaps it was that the boy intrigued him. He had yet to ask where they were going, and that was standard protocol in any kidnapping situation. Kratos had already been leaving, so was it really kidnapping? Yuan didn't care about classifications any more; he was content to know he had successfully outsmarted the unusually bright prince. Yuan preferred the term 'outsmarted' to 'lucked out' anyway, but it might've occurred to him that the tide of the battle could've turned if they had fought in a different location. He didn't regard that fact as relevant, after all, who was tied up?

They continued to walk in an uncomfortable silence. Whether or not it was uncomfortable to Kratos was irrelevant, he couldn't read him very well, but Yuan was nearly squirming in the void. Why was he squirming? He was the captor! Yuan sighed, some unnamable characteristic of this boy was remarkably unique, and dare he say it, he almost felt bad for kidnapping him. Maybe this was what royalty was like, Yuan mused. Yuan broke out of his thoughts when he abruptly ran into Kratos' back. Funny, he couldn't recall when _he_ started leading. Kratos spun around to face him, a faint look of annoyance crossed with amusement.

"Seriously, I've been leading you in circles for the past twenty minutes, and you haven't said a thing! I would've kept going, but if I see that rock again, and have to pretend it's the first time I've seen it, I'm going to kill someone." His tone was back in that calm, smug voice that acted as if he had all the answers. Now, it was twinged with growing frustration. Yuan twisted around, examining the forest for verification. Sure enough, the original tree he'd stopped at to rest was directly in front of him. The repeated footprints were beginning to wear a path in the grass, and Yuan wondered why he had not noticed earlier. He guessed he was really deep in thought.

"I suppose you have." He declared simply. Kratos rolled his eyes and muttered something unintelligible that sounded suspiciously like 'Lost to an idiot' but Yuan didn't pay it any mind. He was never side tracked, he was Yuan Kaafei!

"So it's just as I thought, you have no idea where we are." Kratos met his near vacant expression accusingly before it sharpened at the insult.

"I do so! I was just thinking, is all!" Yuan retorted defensively. He straightened his cape.

"Pray tell which way we're headed then." Kratos raised an eyebrow, and Yuan was suddenly irked at how often he got away with being the arrogant know-it-all.

"That way!" Yuan picked a direction at random just to spite him. He was almost certain it was that way. However, seeing how night was falling, and the trees obscured the sky, he might've been wrong. Apparently they had been walking in circles anyhow, and his sense of direction was jumbled.

"So were headed back to Meltokio?" Kratos inquired faux-innocently. He didn't actually know where they were, but it was easy to press the half-elf's buttons. He could bluff well, and convincing the half elf of such a thing would put off their entrance to Sylvarant and give him more time. Kratos needed to find a weapon, though he greatly desired his sword, Yuan's might do, and he had to escape. Escape was paramount. Even if it would end the war, Kratos never thought the war would be lost because of him. That was ludicrous. He wouldn't be able to live past the embarrassment, assuming he lived at all.

"Nice try kid." Yuan recovered after his eyes briefly widened in self-doubt.

"So you're not a complete idiot." Kratos shook his head to displace a thick auburn strand from obscuring his vision. His hands would be a lot more helpful, but they weren't in the cards today. He tried to size up his Sylvaranti companion. It _was_ rather interesting that he was a half-elf.

"Say, why did the Sylvaranti army recruit you? Don't they discriminate over there just as badly as here?" He was mildly curious, but also stalling. Soon it would be dark and they'd be forced to set up camp. Yuan scowled.

"What? It's a valid question." He felt obligated to add.

"We're just as capable as you are of serving in the military." Kratos shook his head; he was getting the wrong idea.

"I never said _I_ was racist, but why weren't _they_?" He shrugged, "I've met enough people to know it's not a widely held belief." Yuan relaxed slightly. Kratos was full of surprises.

"I caught their attention." Figuring that was all the response he was going to get, Kratos hmphed at the vagueness and allowed silence to overtake them once again. Yuan finally snapped.

"Okay, so why don't my mysterious answers bother you, when yours are constantly bothering me?! I swear it's as if you know the best way to annoy me without actually appearing annoying, and _that's_ as irritating as hell!" Kratos smirked at that, in fact, it might have even been mistaken as a smile by a passerby if there was such a third party observing. Yuan jabbed a finger at him.

"See, _that_, you're doing it again!" Kratos cocked his head to the side.

"I'm not particularly loquacious. My dad called it 'antisocial', whereas I call it 'Sick of conversing with pompous spoiled brats'." Yuan looked amused at the actual response.

"And the prince has a vocabulary setting other than 'explicit'."He acted as if it was a shocking prospect. Kratos hated being called 'prince' and averted his gaze at the mention of the king. He hadn't exactly left on good terms with his father, and reminders were not welcome.

Yuan plowed a little further. If Kratos was answering questions, perhaps he could get rid of the trivial subject that was nagging him.

"What was so special about the sword?" He repeated, "There must be tons just like it at your castle." Why _that_ sword? Yuan had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, which unfortunately contributed to a tortuous curiosity. Kratos' walls were no longer up.

"Still bothering you, huh?" He shook his head, "Actually, it belonged to my brother, Typhon. He was the eldest. After he," Kratos paused near imperceptibly as the euphemism hung thickly in his throat, "_passed away_, he left it to me. He fought all his battles with it. It was his prized possession."

"Oh." Yuan didn't know what to say. He hadn't been expecting anything serious. Now he felt bad. It was hard to imagine the Tethe'allans experiencing the same hardship that they did in Sylvarant. But the royal line had the short end of the stick, it seemed. There was part of the reason this teenager was on a different level than the rest.

* * *

Redirecting his attention to their surroundings, Yuan knew he had to tread carefully here. If they slipped up and went the wrong way, either he'd be toast in the heart of Tethe'alla, or toast on the frontline border dispute between the warring nations. The chink in the armor he snuck through wasn't that large, hence the term 'chink'. There was a very small margin for error. Despite this, his qualms of uncertainty were eradicated swiftly. He was Yuan Kaafei, and Yuan Kaafei didn't make mistakes. End of story.

Yuan was interrupted in his self pep-talk as his elven senses picked up something on the outskirts of his hearing. It may have been voices.

"Shhh." He raised an arm to still Kratos' movements. Kratos' ears pricked up as well, though he couldn't hear anything aside from the usual forest ambience. From the look on his face, Yuan obviously hasn't heard anything good, though. His features noticeably darkened from the previously carefree expression, and Kratos noted the speed of the transition. Despite not appearing it, the half-elf was always alert. That could cause problems for him later. Yuan yanked one of Kratos' bound arms into a new direction, quickly breaking into a jog. While Kratos usually topped any race, he was struggling to maintain Yuan's pace with his arms locked stiffly behind his back. He stumbled slightly on a root, and Yuan righted him swiftly.

"My _hands_." Kratos hissed, while checking behind him for whatever had frightened the Sylvaranti. Yuan was distracted by said approaching threat, but kept an iron grip on Kratos' shoulder.

"Huh? What about them?" Yuan peered between the tree trunks.

"Do you want me to run or not?" Kratos' tone was laced with the urgency that Yuan was rigidly displaying in his body language. Yuan's eyes broke from their search to dart suspiciously at the boy's face. Untie him? It must be odd to run that way, he hadn't thought of that. Yuan even missed the devious wording Kratos had chosen. Regrettably, he didn't know which way the kid would run. The Tethe'allans were retreating behind him deeper into their own territory, which unfortunately was where he was standing. Kratos probably suspected as much. Yuan couldn't risk it.

"Sorry, no. Keep running." He shoved Kratos forward after a sharp clang of armor rang a little too close for comfort. They had to get out of there. He realized, as the sky was dark by now, that Kratos was successfully stalling him. They should be in Sylvarant by now. Yuan mentally cursed himself for getting off-task. He was suffering the consequences now. A mistake like that might cost him his life, if he got caught with Kratos in tow. For whatever reason, the boy didn't want to go back. Yuan didn't think the rush in his expression was a facade, either.

* * *

Kratos sighed, and would've run a hand through his hair if they weren't occupied. He was in the unfortunate position of having to choose the lesser of two evils. If he was drawn in by the Tethe'allan regulars, then there was no doubt he'd be sent back to the Meltokio castle under a more watchful guard. If he briefly paired up with his Sylvaranti 'kidnapper', then he might escape the clutches of castle life, but that could go horribly wrong should he stick too long with Yuan. That was worth the risk. He wasn't going back after he firmly decided he would leave. Mind set on avoiding the Tethe'allan lines, he really wished he could move faster. His concussion cast everything in a fuzzier rendition, and he felt sluggish next to the nimble half-elf. He tripped yet again, and couldn't even put his hands in front of him to break his fall. Yuan yanked him by the arm just in time to keep him upright, but not before Kratos swore at his own incompetence. When had he gotten so sloppy? Yuan gave him a last hard look, before reaching down to his high leather boots. Pulling out a thin concealed dagger,Yuan gestured to the ropes. Kratos gratefully spun around to allow them to be cut.

The pressure was relieved in a moment, and his chafed wrists swung more comfortably down by his sides. He rubbed the raw skin briefly, and managed a truthful "Thanks." Yuan nodded slightly, and they took off together at a much faster pace than before. Now Kratos was the one in front, and his heightened balance improved his headache a bit, though it still pounded.

From the impressive pound of synchronized footsteps, Kratos gathered that they were running parallel to the Tethe'allan retreating lines. Perhaps Yuan was hoping to slip to one side in time before being cornered by an endless wall of militants in any direction that were bound to notice their presence. They could make it, though he hoped Yuan had a good idea of how close they were. For all Kratos knew, they might be miles off.

The roaring chatter of relieved soldiers casually called to one another. Kratos could make out the words, but they ran faster. His foot struck a little to the left of where he'd planned, and the sharp crack of a branch made both he and Yuan flinch at the proximity of their would be pursuers. The voices quieted, and the teenagers froze like deer in headlights. Kratos backed behind a thick trunk and pressed close to the bark, as if he was able to disappear inside. Yuan did likewise beside a neighboring trunk, and they held their breath. The oncoming troops were now silent, and Yuan stole a look around the edge of his tree.

Soldiers lined up warily, their casual attitudes banished by the sharp crack of a twig. Some already had a fresh grip on their swords and staffs. Yuan could see the whites of their eyes. He quickly ducked back behind the fleeting safety of his tree.

"Who's there?" A commander called out. Kratos had no options left. He leaned down silently and took a handful of darkened soil. He dirtied his hair and face along with his hands. Anything to mute the unique color of his hair. His eyes met Yuan's, but Yuan was stricken, and looked as if his heart was in his throat. He couldn't speak for fear of being discovered. Kratos had already chosen the path of no return. He raised his voice defiantly and stepped out from behind his tree.

"Two lost and unarmed Sylvaranti."

He jutted out his chin, as if he was proud of his fake nationality. Yuan's eyes widened and his face would've made Kratos laugh under different circumstances. Good to know he was still unpredictable. Kratos raised his arms harmlessly, and Yuan reluctantly appeared as well. The guards were already upon them, violently shoving them to the ground and binding their arms. They didn't soften any blows, and roughly bound Kratos' already aching wrists a second time. Yuan allowed himself to be bound without a fight, though every muscle in his body screamed to struggle. His chances of survival had vastly increased with an anonymous Kratos. He wouldn't spoil that opportunity. They could still escape.

Kratos grimaced as he was jerked to his feet. No one had recognized him, and he didn't expect anyone to. He kept to himself most often. His eyes darted meaningfully to meet Yuan's. Yuan didn't need to be told twice to keep quiet. The Sylvaranti's teal eyes conferred silent thanks. Kratos shook his hair into his face to disguise his bright russet eyes. The soldiers around them forced them back towards the core of Tethe'alla.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

* * *

**(A/N) Sorry 'bout the cliffhanger, but I couldn't pass up an opportunity like that! You know I'll get the next chapter out ASAP. Thanx for reading and please Review! XD**


	5. Chapter 5

**(A/N) Next one out! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I. Don't. Own.**

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_**Chapter 5**_

* * *

The eerie quiet was rapidly replaced with the soldiers renewed conversation. They laughed and joked with each other about their families, and other soldierly topics. Kratos was struck by the normalcy of their discussion; for battle-hardened soldiers, they seemed like regular people. The man pushing Kratos along nudged him.

"Looks like the Sylvaranti are recruiting younger and younger these days." He observed loudly. Another man snorted in agreement, now looking Kratos up and down. His brow furrowed sadly. Kratos did his best not to cringe under the roving stares, if he were to be recognized it would be now.

"Boy, how old are you, anyway?" The soldier asked, obviously taking note of his shorter stature and leaner frame. Kratos was sick of his age being considered a matter for conversation.

"Seventeen." He remained proud and indignant. The man scoffed at the ruse.

"Bull." He didn't ask any more questions though, and Kratos was grateful. He figured the soldier didn't want to know the real answers anyway, perhaps the notion was depressing. It was no matter, as long as the subject was dropped.

It annoyed Kratos that no one was questioning Yuan, also a young prisoner about his origins. The half-elf was getting much more brutal treatment than Kratos was. They carelessly pushed and prodded the blue-haired Sylvaranti without even trying to appear civil as they had with Kratos. Kratos' blood boiled. Nothing should distinguish him from Yuan. Humans thought they were so superior sometimes.

"Hey!" He called angrily, "show some damn respect to your adversaries. He's a prisoner of war, not an animal." His scowl and glare were nothing short of terrifying, even beneath the slight layer of dirt.

Pausing in their mistreatment, a few soldiers laughed raucously, whereas those that met his gaze quickly looked away. Yuan's eyebrows creased slightly. He'd been taking the situation well; in fact he was used to it, and could handle discrimination. This interference was a new experience for him. Several of the soldiers that had been roughing him up redirected their attention at Kratos.

"You're in no position to bad mouth us, _Sylvaranti_!" A notably tall Tethe'allan regular spat the last word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. Kratos' glare held, and the soldier harshly tugged the boy's shoulder to himself and kneed him in the back. Hard. Kratos winced from the sharp blow, but the pain was bearable; he'd only get a bruise. The soldier pushed Kratos forward and, apparently satisfied with his retribution, walked further ahead. Kratos smirked, despite the dull throb in his head battling with the splendidly forming bruise on his spine for attention. The other soldiers had stopped harassing Yuan like before, and everyone walked in an uneasy quiet.

* * *

Yuan couldn't take his eyes off of Kratos. He didn't understand. The boy had just stuck out his neck for him, even taken a beating. He was a _half-elf_, and more importantly a Sylvaranti. Yuan had _kidnapped him_, and Kratos held none of those things against him. Either he was the best actor that ever lived, or Yuan figured he was serious when Kratos said he wasn't racist. The kindness would not go forgotten in Yuan's book. Now he owed him one, and that was going to be a hard debt to pay off. In all actuality, Yuan probably owed him two favors, seeing as how Kratos spontaneously decided to conceal his identity. That had prevented Yuan from being killed on sight. Part of that was probably his aversion to being returned home, and Yuan had yet to figure that mystery out. Still, it wasn't something he took lightly. The kid was complicated.

What was really remarkable was that Kratos just trudged on as if nothing happened. He challenged the soldiers holding them, and they were too shocked or captivated by his audacity to continue as they were. Yuan was just as surprised for once. He was dying to talk to Kratos, but he wasn't going to have the chance for a while.

Yuan refocused. They needed to escape, preferably when they had the fewest guards accompanying them. He had no idea when such an occasion would arise, and he and Kratos would have to coordinate together. Whatever he might owe the kid, there was no way he was cutting his losses and leaving him after all the trouble he'd been put through to find him. He would never find that needle in a haystack again, and just maybe if they made it out alive, Yuan could repay that kindness.

* * *

Kratos tried to get a feel for where they were. It was easy to eavesdrop on the Tethe'allans when they thought he was just a brainless soldier. They were a part of the Meltokio regiment, and he figured they would be heading back there. Meltokio was a big city, though. Hopefully he could avoid stepping within those walls altogether, but strangely from the sound of it, the soldiers were discussing preparations to set up camp. That implied they were going further than Meltokio. The exact location of their travels was never stated; in fact they were painfully oblique for the most part about anything serious. Staying anywhere that wasn't inside a city was bound to have its own set of escape opportunities, so either way it was a plus for him and Yuan.

Yuan. That reminded him of _that_ problem as well. He would be lying if the man didn't make him uneasy, but he also was just doing his duty to his country. He was nice enough during their talks. Kratos had trouble reading his complex thought processes, yet at other times he acted like a frustrated child. Whichever way it went, Kratos preferred Yuan's company to these soldiers. He felt more at ease with the half-elf, and Yuan hadn't really shoved a knee through his back either. Kratos had yet to resolve his thoughts on what to do afterwards, but there had to be an afterwards for him to think about. He set his focus on the present. Everything else would just be a distraction.

It was pitch dark, and Kratos felt drowsy despite only having woken up a few hours ago. A bugle sounded to signal the relatively large mass of soldiers to form ranks. Kratos and Yuan were both jostled as the men fell into lines rather quickly, and everyone quieted. A single, important looking man walked down the tidy line of troops. He had shortly cropped gray hair, and held himself with an air of authority. Kratos was reminded of his father slightly; this man's mannerisms were very similar to his when he was well.

"Men!" He barked sharply, "I need a camp set up in the clearing up ahead. Team 3 is taking the first watch, and will cycle every two hours with the next Team up. It's late, so I want neat rows of tents then you all can get some rest." He had reached the row where Yuan and Kratos were held by several soldiers. He frowned at them.

"Those on watch will also keep an eye on our newest additions. I need a round the clock guard." He had a strict, no nonsense tone, and his sharp icy silver gaze met Kratos'. Kratos kept up a carefully calculated expression of blankness and disappointment, which seemed to pass for whatever the man was looking for.

The Tethe'allan troops were hasty and efficient; a solid thirty minutes later they had impeccable columns of squat tents and set up a decent sized perimeter. Yuan was impressed. His troops always seemed to get undisciplined when they weren't in a life threatening situation. If his regiment wasn't the most foolhardy, skilled, and headstrong in all of Sylvarant, then his hair wasn't blue. They were like a family, nothing like this strict and orderly method the Tethe'allans had enacted. The difference was like night and day.

Kratos and he were none too kindly pushed to the center of the camp. Yuan, aside from his exhaustion was feeling a bit better about the situation. They had time to work out a plan. Trying to get a read on his fellow prisoner was more difficult. It was semi-apparent that the auburn haired kid was tired and possibly hurting from his daze-like trance and clouded eyes. It was likely that the bump on his head from earlier had done more damage than Yuan thought. Despite that, Kratos kept his eyes trained ahead and his mouth pressed into a hard line. He was a very convincing Sylvaranti, Yuan thought. The half-elf would be proud if any of his men kept that kind of composure after capture. Yuan was actually very anxious himself. He had never been ensnared before, and the nervousness was to be expected. Fairly certain that Kratos was hanging on for the time being, Yuan turned to their new position.

A scraggly patch of grass complete with the occasional mud puddle composed their holding ground. Yuan was pushed down to a sitting position on the ground, and Kratos more or less was sent sprawling after a coarse shove. Yuan found the man that was leading Kratos was the same abusive soldier wearing a vengeful simper. Kratos pulled himself up with as much dignity as he could muster and was strangely quiet. Where had all of his fiery bravado gone? Yuan scowled for him until the soldier turned on his heel and marched to his tent.

Two other men appeared to be watching them with identical bored expressions. The gray haired commander appeared briskly and whispered something to each guard before waving them off. His eyebrows were angled so that he looked perpetually angry, Yuan duly noted as the man walked forward.

"I want simple and straightforward answers to my questions." He informed them. Kratos looked up sharply and Yuan shifted his hands to a better position as he sat upright.

"I need your names and ranks for starters," Kratos shot Yuan a look that could've meant a number of things.

"Major Yuan Hirozaki" Yuan recited, simply replacing Commander with something a little more inconspicuous. Kratos shook some of his hair out of his eyes.

"Second Lieutenant Daisuke Hayato." He reeled off. The commander nodded.

"Regiment?" He was now directing his question at Kratos and Yuan inwardly cursed. Apparently witnessing the conspiratorial glance, the commanding officer wanted to see if they would slip up.

"Triet" Kratos shot back in his same monotone. Yuan was relieved that he had remembered. Yuan knew his regiments recent movements were in the area, so he could take it from here.

"We were sent to scout behind your lines and report on your troops' relative size as well as the geography to the west of Meltokio." Yuan knew as a Sylvaranti that his most recent maps of the region were several decades old, and rumor had it that the Tethe'allans were partaking in massive infrastructure construction. It was a viable mission. The commander narrowed his silvery irises.

"Were the Sylvaranti so desperate to send a pair of kids?" His gaze darted between them and rested on Kratos again. Yuan had to admit that while he could pass for a young twenty, Kratos looked every bit of his fifteen years. Kratos merely twitched in amusement that Yuan was finally lumped into the 'kid' category.

"We're faster than we look." He replied cockily, and Yuan could almost picture a reality where they were on the same side. He now could openly admit to himself that he was fond of the prince, something he had never thought would happen. The man in charge looked somewhat satisfied with Kratos' answer, or the prideful way he boasted it. He cut off the interrogation.

"Well then, you are both prisoners of Tethe'alla, and as such will be traveling with us until we reach our destination. The court will deal with you after that." The man huffed and walked off in his same restless manner. That was when Yuan realized that where they sat was exactly where they'd be sleeping. Two soldiers, the bored ones from earlier had returned with lumber for a fire. The largest pieces they then hammered as thick wooden stakes into the well packed dirt. One prodded Yuan with the toe of his boot.

"Hey, get up. You'll be sitting over there." He inclined his head to the makeshift pillars. Yuan complied reluctantly, and his and Kratos' bindings were secured to the stakes firmly.

Both watchmen, evidently from Team 3, stood a few yards off and chatted amiably while leaning against one of the few hefty oaks in the relatively large clearing. At least for the next two hours, Yuan and Kratos might have some peace. Speaking of which, Yuan glanced over to his fellow 'Sylvaranti'. Kratos had his head pressed up against the stake as he gazed upward at the sky. Ample starlight and a full moon reflected in his eyes. The dirt he'd rubbed in his hair and skin did nothing to conceal his unique demeanor, and Yuan could tell he was exhausted. Yuan was as well.

"Psst. Kratos!" Yuan whispered, attempting to jerk the boy out of his injury-induced stupor. Kratos snapped to attention almost instantaneously, and through the darkness, Yuan could make out his head turning to face him.

"Do you have any knives on you?" He hissed back, evidently having been contemplating escape. Yuan was about to respond when the watchmen finally managed to strike a fire a good fifteen yards away. The deep red light flashed and grew stronger, soon casting deep shadows as it danced around them. Sparing a look at the guards, he saw they were distracted.

"Just the one in my boot." He managed.

"What about your blade?" Kratos had noted its absence some time ago and wondered if Yuan ditched it.

"I have to summon it, but to do magic I need my hands." The simple idea of pulling his favorite butterfly blade out of thin air appealed to him from a young age; he wouldn't have to lug it around. Only now did he see the necessity of magic as a disadvantage. It was better that he didn't get it taken from him, though.

"Can you take out your dagger?" Kratos' voice was soft and low, barely audible beneath the more distant sounds of crackling embers and quiet murmuring. Yuan pulled his right boot nearer and tried to tuck it behind his body to reach his hands. The thick ropes pulled taut while chafing at his skin. He could almost reach it, but the angle was too much and the rope was too tight. Maybe if he pulled it out with his left foot, and balanced it to his knee, he could drop it behind him within reach of his arms.

"Not an easy job." Yuan reported to Kratos who shrugged at the misfortune. He didn't have anything remotely sharp thanks to Yuan, and he tried squirming out of the binding. All his efforts bore only bloody wrists and a skeptical outlook. If Yuan could manage to cut his ropes, the hardest thing would be splitting the perimeter. Perhaps at the guard change in approximately two hours they could break for it. Kratos couldn't suppress a yawn.

"Wake me in two hours, or when you cut those things, whichever comes first." Kratos relaxed his shoulders the best he could in the uncomfortable position.

Yuan was about to protest that they should both remain alert, but the way Kratos' head lolled to the side and his form went limp told Yuan he was already sound asleep. Yuan sighed briefly and then went back to work on his dagger. If he could just cross his legs, maybe? He tried several other positions and was relieved when the dagger slid out of his boot at last. It landed softly in the short grass, and Yuan slid it over to his body with his foot. Almost there.

When his fingers slid around the cool handle of the dagger, Yuan began sawing furiously at the ropes. It'd be about an hour before the guard change, and he could either wait until the switch, or move when those on duty would be most fatigued. The watchmen by the fire were drowsily poking the dying embers with a stick. Neither of them seemed to have the effort in them to get it blazing again. Yuan felt his rope loosen as they were severed. The air felt blissfully cool against his wrists and he sunk a bit lower than the binding had allowed before.

"Kratos," he hissed, now ready to enact phase two. The boy stirred slightly, but his eyes didn't open. He didn't look serene while he slept like most people did. His face revealed deep agitation. His eyebrows were furrowed in quiet concentration.

"Kratos!" He whispered as loud as he dared. The guards didn't seem to notice. Kratos' eyes snapped open wide, and he glanced about to get his bearings. Just as rapidly, he was calm and collected.

"Did you get it?" Yuan nodded and checking once more to see the irresponsible watchmen occupied, he tossed the dagger to Kratos' side.

The kid made short work of the ropes and visibly loosened up after their release. He fingered the metal of the dagger nervously. He was thinking along the same lines as Yuan.

"Now or at the trade off?" The question caused Yuan to look again. The guards were sluggishly sitting cross-legged in the grass, barely keeping up a dreary conversation.

"Now" Yuan decided in a hoarse whisper. He got a nod in reply. Creaking up on sore legs, Yuan slowly stood. The cover between the tents to their right was a good bet, and from what he could tell, the closest option to the edge of their camp.

* * *

Kratos swayed as he stood. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and slowly trailed Yuan. They were silent and stealthy. As they hit the tent area, a yell broke through the calm. Apparently the guards noticed they were gone. They broke into a sprint at the edge of the forest. For just once in his life, Kratos found himself lucky. Those guards marching the perimeter were thankfully elsewhere. Barreling blind through the dark trees, he didn't hear any signs of pursuit. The yelling remained contained at camp. He didn't know which way they were going and where it might lead, but Yuan and he ran until they couldn't anymore. Yuan had stopped before he did; obviously he hadn't gotten a wink of rest while Kratos had. They both collapsed in the dirt to catch their breath.

"I don't think they're behind us." Kratos rasped heavily, his voice breaking from its whisper.

"That was deceptively easy." Yuan muttered, and spared another look behind them. His men would never have been so careless. For whatever reason, he was appreciative. He needed a good rest, but they'd distance themselves first.

In an unspoken truce, both teenagers stood and walked off together as equals. Yuan didn't trouble himself with Kratos' background, nor Kratos with Yuan's. They'd leave that for later.

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**(A/N) Thanks for reading, please leave a review to tell me watcha thought! (Typo notification or criticisms are welcome... I'll edit out anything too sloppy)**


	6. Chapter 6

**(A/N) Sorry this update took longer than normal... just trying to work out the plot a bit more. Not a whole lot of action, but next chapter will be a faster pace. Thanks for reading, and please leave me a review!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Tales of Symphonia, you would follow Kratos around after he betrayed you at the Tower of Salvation...**

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_**Chapter 6**_

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"So what now?" Kratos inquired cautiously. The sun was tipping over the horizon and it brought a crisp, new morning sky the sharpest shade of cyan. His headache had muted to the occasional throb, but it was mostly cleared up. He could think straight, which was all that mattered.

They had been walking off and on since their escape, and must've covered several miles under the guise of the night sky. Yuan knew he needed sleep; he'd been up the past twenty six hours. Twenty six very eventful hours in which he had to run, battle, drag a fifteen year old kid, run again, get captured, escape, and do even more running. If he allowed himself to sleep, he doubted Kratos would be there when he woke up. Contrary to his fatigued state, he had not failed to notice that Kratos kept the dagger after slicing his own bindings.

Yuan was sleepy beyond reason, and Kratos was battered and injured. Together they made quite the pair. It didn't help much that neither knew exactly where they were. Yuan yawned.

"We find a town." Kratos hadn't really meant to get that kind of answer, but it was a simple enough option to go with. He let the 'we' rest as it was for now, though he didn't really know where they stood. Yuan hadn't asked for his dagger back, and Kratos wouldn't have given it. He figured if they had been in the general vicinity of Meltokio when he'd woken up, then they'd be somewhere near the forested region around Sybak. They traveled east since their escape, and though he wasn't sure how much farther it was, or how much north or south they were of it, Sybak was probably nearby.

Sybak was, and likely forever would be, a small, bustling town brimming with research and technological innovation. Several universities had their campuses there, and Kratos had briefly attended one of them some years ago to culminate the brunt of his academic education. His father was pleased that Kratos was called 'exceptionally bright', and had deemed his edification complete upon the report. While he had continued to be taught in Meltokio, it was nothing on scale with Sybak. There research was the first priority. Luckily he knew the place pretty well, and could probably recognize the surrounding area if they got close enough. Sizing up Yuan, Kratos figured he looked about ready to collapse, and he was running on willpower alone.

Kratos felt his stomach grumble. Coming upon the realization that he hadn't eaten anything since the previous morning, his appetite seemed to contemplate devouring itself in mutiny. The sooner they made town, the better. He didn't imagine Yuan had eaten recently either. There was a small inn and diner in Sybak now that he thought of it, and it was optimum because hardly any travelers came there except on business. The town was looking better and better.

After a few long minutes of walking, Kratos perked up. Yuan remained oblivious to his companion's change in demeanor, however, lazily focusing on his next step.

"I recognize where we are now," Kratos changed his path for a more direct route. The trees would clear up soon, but the meadow through the brush ahead was a lush landmark prior to Sybak's major entrance. They weren't more than ten or fifteen minutes out. Somehow they were lucky enough to end up incredibly close with lack of good direction.

Mulling over his recent change in fortune, Kratos decided that Yuan must simply be a lucky person. How else could one expect to kidnap a high ranking Tethe'allan and make it through a tightly controlled border unscathed? Conceivably it was arrogance, or a dearth of foresight, but perhaps he was used to things going his way. Kratos had the opposite mannerisms aside from the occasional arrogant remark. He was never lucky; he just accepted that if something could go wrong, it likely would. That was just how it happened, how it always was. Now he had escaped a miraculously sloppy perimeter, and just _found_ himself at the front step of a city when he expected to be hopelessly lost. What luck. It must be Yuan, Kratos concluded a bit enviously.

Yuan followed him without a second guess, and Kratos wondered fleetingly if he suspected anything from him. He was trailing him blindly; they could be headed straight into the Tethe'allan army again. Yet, Kratos supposed if he was going to spring a trick like that, he wouldn't have been a conspirator in their dramatic escape. They stepped out of the forest and into the grassy clearing. Sybak was visible ahead, mostly low buildings, two stories at most, and a dullish gray hue encompassed the skyline. It wasn't a particularly extraordinary sight, but Yuan hefted a great sigh.

Trudging to the delightfully unguarded entrance, Kratos started to feel better already. Sybak had no reason to suspect Sylvaranti intruders this far into Tethe'alla, and they wouldn't think to search for a Tethe'allan royal either. Simple and wonderful anonymity. His feet automatically set course for the inn; they might get some strange looks for checking in this morning, but it wasn't that rare for travelers to trek through the night to avoid confrontation.

"Two rooms" He found himself telling the stout man staffing the wooden counter in the small establishment. He payed the required amount of Gald and received two room keys. Tossing one to Yuan, he made his way up the stairs to find his own room.

Yuan grabbed his own key and proceeded to unlock the door adjacent to Kratos'. The room was small and tidy, barely large enough to fit the bed. For Yuan it was perfect. He plopped down, not even bothering to take off his shoes, and slept for eight hours straight.

* * *

When Yuan woke, it was late afternoon. Just by glancing out his meager, square window, he could tell it was one of those sweltering days. A particularly hot glow glanced off of the walkways, and those that bothered to go about their daily business were sweating profusely. Yuan sighed and reluctantly pulled himself off of the soft comforter. As much as he wanted to stay and sleep a bit longer, he needed to check up on a couple things.

He fixed his cape and smoothed his clothes free of wrinkles. He opened his creaky wooden door and trotted down the short flight of stairs. Not surprisingly enough, the same squat innkeeper from earlier that morning was on-duty. Yuan cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, but I was wondering if the red-headed boy I came in with had checked out yet. Have you seen him?" Yuan asked. He didn't expect Kratos to have stuck around. He was probably in the wind by now, and if he didn't want to be found, Yuan doubted he would surface again. That made his mission's failure easier to accept. He couldn't honestly say he wanted to bring Kratos to Sylvarant where he would most likely be sentenced to death purely because of his upbringing.

"He hasn't checked out. He left a few hours ago, though. Said to tell you he'd be in the market or something." The man shrugged indifferently. Yuan's brow creased. Kratos hadn't ditched him like he'd expected, even accepted. Without a plan of action, Yuan found himself making the short pilgrimage to the marketplace outside the inn. It wasn't as if the kid was stupid, so Yuan had no idea what angle he was playing. Yuan couldn't think of any way Kratos might benefit from his company.

It was hot outside, as he expected, and the pounding sunlight made him want to crawl back to his hotel room and sleep some more. The market was a small assortment of stands and one-room shops. Kratos' messy auburn hair flashed in the sunlight, and Yuan could spot him across the way. He started towards him.

Kratos was purchasing a long sheathed blade from a weapons vendor. He forked over the Gald that he now had less and less of. It was worth it for a new sword nonetheless. He nodded to the salesman and turned to stock up on some more supplies, but was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. He spared a glance up to Yuan, but continued walking anyway.

"Good morning," he greeted the half-elf who still looked bleary with sleep. Yuan's eyes were sharp though, and he fell into step with Kratos as he went about his business.

"Why are you still here?" Yuan asked bluntly. Kratos smirked; he was rather straight and to the point, wasn't he?

"This place is perfect." Kratos inclined his head to the city around them. "No one would think to look for me here, and I know it like the back of my hand." Yuan remained puzzled.

"I think that I'd think to look for you here." He muttered half-heartedly. Kratos should consider him a threat; it wasn't healthy for them to stick around each other. Tethe'allans and Sylvaranti's were like oil and water.

"I'm not really concerned about that." Yuan blinked. Did Kratos just insult him? He clarified, "You seem like a decent person, and I don't come across too many of those." Yuan examined Kratos' face. He didn't look as if he was lying, or joking for that matter.

"It also wouldn't have been honorable to ditch you at the hotel after our escape. I'd have felt like a poor sport, which I am most certainly not." Obligation then, Yuan decided, admittedly more confused than before. Kratos risked his life on the assumption that Yuan would be chivalrous? Yuan pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I won't pretend to understand your thought process on that one." But really, what was he going to do? Should he try to take Kratos back to Sylvarant with him? They were in a public place, and the boy just purchased a new sword. And Yuan didn't really want to.

"Hn." He could hear the victory in Kratos' response, that implicit 'I was right' he emanated. Yuan was about to retort that he wasn't a decent person or chivalrous and that Kratos' attitude was starting to get to him. Unfortunately, before he could get his thoughts together they were rudely interrupted.

"Pardon me sir." A hand practically yanked Kratos' arm out of its socket. Flustered, he spun around to see a young woman with thick spectacles flashing in the light. Her dark brown hair was pushed up into a bun and she wore a white lab coat that was the common dress for half of the people that populated Sybak.

"Can I interest you in a job opportunity?" She pushed up her glasses, and Kratos saw her blue eyes behind them were wide with excitement. He inwardly groaned. Why hadn't she picked Yuan? Oh yeah, Yuan was _lucky. _Outwardly, he pulled his arm away.

"A- A job opportunity?" He stammered in surprise. She nodded eagerly, and stepped closer.

"Yes, yes. A job." She replied fervently. Kratos wanted very badly to brush the woman off, but if he felt like staying in Sybak, he'd need a source of income. His diminutive Gald supply was already running low. It might be a good idea just to hear her out. She was painfully intruding on his personal space though. Cautiously taking a step back, he remembered Yuan's presence and glanced furtively up at him. He had his eyebrows raised in amusement. Kratos scowled. It wasn't funny.

"What's the job?" He was immediately sorry he asked as the woman grabbed his wrist and dragged him off to the nearest building door. It looked like a thickset research facility. There were tons of them in Sybak. Yuan shrugged and followed the show the woman was putting on with a jaunt in his step.

Inside it was noticeably darker and cooler. Kratos reclaimed his arm and rubbed the wrist, it was still raw from the repeated rope burns, and she'd almost reopened the thin gashes that he'd formed trying to escape from the Tethe'allan army. At this point he was about to turn and leave. No amount of Gald was worth putting up with this lady. She sat down elatedly at a wide gray table splayed with several layers of paper.

"Do you know what an exsphere is?" The woman leaned forward with her fingertips grazing the surface of the table as if she might fall and need to catch herself.

"Yes," Kratos knew that Aether was bragging about his new battle enhancement tool or something of the sort in his last letter. A select few warriors obtained them, but they were supposed to dramatically increase one's strength and speed. The lady blinked, taken aback by the apparent ubiquity of her research.

"Oh, well, I'd like you to test one." Kratos furrowed his brow. _Test _one? He was under the impression that the new technology was already in working order.

"Er, why? If you don't mind my asking that is." Kratos felt like he was missing something, some catch somewhere. For being a researcher, he had to spell out quite a few obvious things to this lady.

"Your mana signature is perfect!" She squealed in delight and pulled out a small device from her liberal pockets. A scanner of sorts that ran on magitechnology, Kratos figured. She tilted the screen so he could view the various bar graphs and a percentile match in the corner. He sighed at the '100%' match flashing in red.

"Perfect for what?" Yuan was standing beside him looking somewhat intrigued. He must have some experience with exspheres, being in the army. However, they were a Tethe'allan technology.

"I'm synthesizing an exsphere on a whole new scale, much stronger than the old ones. This way, I'm customizing it specifically to optimize power of our military's head officers. I was directed to make a high quality exsphere for the royal bloodline. To be quite frank, your mana signature is so close to that of the Aurion line that I'd never get another opportunity like this." Kratos stiffened at 'royal' and was extremely uncomfortable at 'Aurion'. Having an exsphere would be advantageous, especially one suited to his very own mana signature.

"How does one go about 'testing' an exsphere?" Kratos asked, now considering the offer.

"You just wear it around, train with it, and stuff. I might ask you to complete tasks in order to facilitate the exsphere's maturation. It needs to grow a bit to fit the person, which is why your mana signature is so important." Her eyes were big and hopeful.

"You mean like a medical experiment?" Yuan eyed the woman with distaste. She wanted to use a special rock of origins unknown to Sylvarant in order to make Kratos into a human weapon. Well, he already was pretty formidable in battle, but something didn't seem right about it. The woman shrugged.

"Sorta, though he shouldn't experience anything _too_ uncomfortable. The benefits should outweigh anything else." She seemed indifferent to the possibility of side-effects. Kratos gave her a hard look. He didn't think it could hurt to try it out, and he could always take it off.

"I'll try the exsphere, then." Kratos decided. Yuan gaped at him. The woman clapped happily.

"Not just any exsphere, it's called a Cruxis Crystal."

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**(A/N) Sorry its shorter than normal... I'll fix that next time. As usual, tell me what you thought and or if you want me to fix typos I may have missed.**


	7. Chapter 7

**(A/N) Hey guys! I tried to add some more action to this chapter. But we'll see how that worked out... Please read and review!**

**Disclaimer: If I ****_did_**** own Tales of Symphonia, there'd be many more Kratos Lloyd training scenes.**

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_**Chapter 7**_

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Yuan had decided on a course of action. He would return to Sylvarant without Kratos. It'd be the first mission he'd ever failed, but it was the right choice. The boy didn't belong caught up in the nonsense he clearly spurned, so Yuan was preparing to leave. He didn't have much to gather, but he took his time straightening his things. He put off going to find the Tethe'allan royal for as long as he could. For some reason, he didn't know how to approach the topic.

After stalling around about the very tiny room, he finally managed to work up the boredom to go find Kratos. He had a good idea where to find him.

* * *

Kratos was beginning to regret he'd agreed to this arrangement. That lady, _Xilia_, was surely a psychopath with the things she asked him to do. It was 'lift this' or 'move that' and checkups every morning. And these were just baseline tests so far, he hadn't even put on the exsphere yet. He was about to go mad from boredom, until Yuan opened the door to the research facility.

"Yuan!" He did his best not to sound too desperate. Technically he was still on the time allotted for 'exsphere research', which meant he was getting paid. Yuan turned his head to spot him and started over purposefully.

"Kratos, I just came to tell you that-" Yuan was going to explain to him that he was returning to Sylvarant and that he no longer owed him a favor before Kratos interrupted.

"Hey, do you want to spar?" Kratos interjected, shooting a cautious glance at Xilia. Yuan raised an eyebrow at Kratos' peculiar behavior. Kratos never interrupted, he hardly even spoke most times. After witnessing the anxious glance, Yuan laughed in delight. Kratos was aching for something to do, almost frantically so. Kratos' expression faltered at Yuan's snicker, but it was soon replaced with his signature scowl. He should patent that, Yuan mulled over aimlessly. Kratos' eyebrows darted down in deliberation.

"C'mon." He coaxed. Yuan rolled his eyes. Though, it wouldn't be bad to tell him he was leaving _after_ he kicked his butt a second time. There would be no contest. And deciding to leave Kratos there would be more humbling if the kid knew he could bring him to Sylvarant if he wanted to. Yuan's ego got the best of him.

"Okay, but you asked for it." He gave in. The corner of Kratos' mouth twitched up in that exasperatingly self-satisfied smirk.

"Let's go outside, then." Kratos led him to the back of the research facility and into a wide enclosed yard behind it. It was barren and flat, just a plain grassy field. Perfect.

Kratos stepped into the middle of the clearing and smoothly drew his new sword to point the sharpened tip at Yuan.

"Anytime you're ready." He challenged, now with an excited edge to his tone. His stance was lax yet dangerous as if lightning was about to strike. Yuan summoned mana in to his palms and pressed them together. His butterfly blade materialized slickly between his glowing hands as he spread his arms apart. Snatching it up at the grip in the center, Yuan spun it around experimentally. He loved the feel of this double-edged sword.

"Ready," Yuan leaned forward subtly, now on the balls of his feet and in his offensive stance.

Kratos didn't wait a second longer to attack. His first strike was straight out of a powerful jump as his sword sliced viciously through the air. Yuan swung the right end of his weapon to block, and the resulting screech of metal ripped through the peace and jarred up both of their arms. Kratos rebounded off of the shock quickly and spun into a low kick when both their blades were pushed off. Yuan took the blow and used the force to propel back slightly. Kratos was moving, if possible, even faster than before. He was also deliberately cuffing in short and powerful bursts. Yuan realized he wasn't going to overlook his magic again. He acted and reacted, extending his left blade dexterously to catch on Kratos' next parry and drag it down. He twisted the right side to try and land a blow on Kratos' shoulder, but he anticipated the maneuver and sidestepped, spinning into a jump that evaded Yuan's next low strike. It was as if he knew where Yuan was going to attack before even he did.

Yuan feinted right before wrenching his body left and using the flat side of his blade to propel a burst of wind elemental mana. Kratos fell for the feint and checked himself in time to duck the thin jet stream of air Yuan could produce without using a spell. Now low to the ground, he used the crouch to his advantage and kicked out Yuan's legs from underneath him.

Yuan was falling backwards, and sacrificed his double grip on his blade to vault into a one handed flip. Once on his feet again, Yuan was struck with the butt of Kratos' hilt in the stomach. _How did he get there so quickly?_ Yuan was disconcerted by the speed at which Kratos seemed to be transcending his own reaction times. He was one of the few opponents that Yuan was sure was faster than himself.

Yuan attempted to bring up his own weapon to block Kratos' wickedly accurate blows, but his sword snaked its way under his handle in a precise show of technique and twisted it out of Yuan's grasp. The silver bolt of metal lightly rested on Yuan's neck.

"That was a good fight," Kratos brought his sword down and sheathed it at his side, while his left hand ran absently through his hair. They were both heavily breathing under the strain of the battle, and Yuan plucked his weapon of choice off of the grassy sod.

"Yea," he muttered sorely, hands glowing with summoning magic once again as he collapsed the blade in unto itself. Kratos watched on enviously while the butterfly blade disappeared into a separate dimension.

"I wish I could learn how to do that." Kratos rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Silently, he mourned the loss of his other sword, but that was in the past. Yuan was impressed with the skirmish to say the least. Kratos was faster than he'd thought, and his sword proficiency was of an incredibly high level.

"That exsphere is really something, huh?" Yuan deadpanned. He hated losing and his pride was poised to take a nosedive off of the nearest cliff. He'd just lost to a fifteen year old Tethe'allan prince unable to cast magic. _And_ he'd already beaten him once. It was appalling.

Kratos couldn't contain his regalement. The teen started outright laughing at Yuan, in what first began as an amused chuckle. Yuan stared at him for a moment, but when the laughter didn't die down, he felt his patience slipping. Kratos _didn't _laugh. As far as Yuan knew, this was an extreme case, and he was laughing _at him_.

"Yuan," he managed, while the gratification of his apparent epiphany was wearing off, "I haven't put on the exsphere yet." Yuan felt his face redden slightly. His pride, still teetering on the precipice of certain destruction, had finally chosen now to jump. The kid was no stronger now than he had been before.

"Then why the hell was I sparring with you?" Frustration began welling up inside Yuan's chest, and he felt like he'd been made a fool out of.

"Baseline comparisons." Kratos shrugged it off, neglecting to recognize Yuan's tone as one of aggression. He pulled a wire out from his collar. Yuan noted that it was a heart rate monitor, and he found he couldn't really stay mad. Oh yeah, he was supposed to tell Kratos he was leaving. The boy turned to walk back inside the facility, auburn locks still splayed in every direction and catching the bright sun.

"Hey, Kratos?" It was more or less to get his attention, and the teenager spun to face him. A quizzical look momentarily crossed his features, but Yuan knew he was listening.

"I'm going to leave for Sylvarant tomorrow morning." Yuan informed him. Kratos looked almost surprised. Had he expected something else?

"Really?" He asked, "Just like that?" It seemed awfully simple the way Yuan said it.

"Yea," Yuan looked down a bit to meet the boy's sharp russet eyes. "I won't tell anyone you're here." Kratos eyebrows escalated further than before.

"And why would you do that?" He still sounded incredulous.

"I owe you a favor since that run in with the Tethe'allan army, and now I've payed it back." Yuan averted his gaze slightly. He still wasn't so sure what Kratos had been thinking while doing that.

"I'm not sure I follow." Kratos sunk back into his usual demeanor, calm and collected, and Yuan had no clue what emotions he might've been experiencing. Yuan snorted, how could he forget something so monumental?

"Don't play stupid, I know you're smarter than that," Yuan let a smile crack halfway. Kratos remained the picture of ignorance, however, and Yuan began to wonder if he imagined the whole ordeal with the reactions he was getting. "You stood up for me." He said seriously. A flash of acknowledgment sparked behind the boy's eyes.

"That?" his eyebrows crept together in puzzlement. Yuan felt like he was misreading the situation somehow. Kratos should've known that sort of thing right away. Kratos seemed to have his thoughts sorted a split-second later, and his attitude shifted to a more assertive one.

"Look, I'm grateful that you don't plan on broadcasting my location, but I don't need any favors for _that_. You don't owe me anything." He'd taken a step back to talk to Yuan, and he glimpsed the raw honesty and fervor on the half-elf's face. He was completely serious about the debt.

"Don't tell me that it doesn't mean anything, it was important to me. No one's ever done that before, and if you say it meant nothing, that would be an insult." Yuan thought the boy finally understood him, but he frowned as Kratos shook his head slightly.

"You don't get it. I would have done the same thing for any half-elf. I like you, but that's not the reason I told them off. It wasn't a personal favor to you, so you _don't owe me anything_." Kratos stressed the last bit, and Yuan understood. He didn't want Yuan to reward his version of the right thing because he didn't believe doing the just thing should be rewarded. Yuan was perplexed.

"So were even?" he cautiously tested the waters. Kratos smiled briefly.

"We were never not." he brushed off Yuan's wariness, but as a side note added, "Though I will accept an apology for the kidnapping attempt." He turned back to enter the institute as Yuan lightly chuckled at his sarcastic jab.

"Still not sorry." He muttered as he followed the red-head indoors. Kratos 'hmphed' softly at the response, but the mood was much lighter than before and both teenagers sported grins as they entered the research institute.

* * *

"Daisuke!" Xilia called from her computer station. Various gadgets and sensors littered the sloppy surface of her terminal, and she was currently intent upon data loading rapidly on the screen. Yuan chuckled at the now well worn alias and looked over Kratos' shoulder at the monitor.

"We're all set on your initial readings. Your heart rate is excellent, and you've got a much lower than average recovery time, which is good. I want to see how much endurance is improved afterwards, so I'll monitor a couple of things while the exsphere adapts to your mana signature. The roughest parts are already specified, though. Good progress for today, you can go home!" Kratos blinked. That was all for today? It was a pleasant surprise.

"When do we attach the Cruxis Crystal?" He inquired calmly.

"Mm. Probably tomorrow." She cocked her head while thinking about it. Kratos rolled his eyes, for a scientist Xilia was not very professional. She didn't even have a schedule worked out, though for now he could spend the rest of his day doing whatever he wanted. He followed Yuan outside absentmindedly.

It was ironic that the half-elf was leaving without another thought; he didn't expect such a quick change of heart. The teen didn't seem like a true adversary, but he did seem loyal to his country. If Kratos thought that kidnapping Yuan might end the war and tip the odds in his side's favor, he would try it. The man was a mystery, but Kratos took to him regardless of that fact. Or possibly because of it, he'd never been one to like ordinary people.

Yuan was also a better fighter than he'd let on. No one could last that long while fighting him. Not a single person he'd trained with after the age of twelve, including instructors, had fought for a continuous half hour like they just had. Winning felt good, especially to know that he hadn't lost his touch, but secretly he thought Yuan was more rounded than himself. The magical aspect he had a good mastery over must be especially useful for long ranged attacks, whereas Kratos might only be able to use a basic weapon like the bow and arrow instead. Anyone he considered an equal with himself on the battlefield was either worthy of being a comrade or an enemy. Kratos was sure that Yuan fell into the 'comrade' category, yet they both seemed destined for separate paths.

"You don't plan on getting captured again without me, do you?" He snapped from his musings when he noticed that Yuan was sending him a look that asked why he was taking so long. Yuan narrowed his eyes.

"That was a onetime deal, and we wouldn't have run _into_ that little problem if a certain prince didn't run me in circles for twenty minutes!" Kratos shrugged indifferently.

"Mmhm. And I wouldn't have kicked your ass in that fight on an even playing field." Kratos retorted acerbically, tone laced with doubt. Yuan would've gotten captured even if he wasn't present. The Tethe'allan lines were nothing to be taken lightly.

"You sure are a sarcastic little brat, aren't you?" Yuan insulted back, though a short laugh betrayed that he didn't truly mean it.

"So I've been told." Kratos kept walking on course for the hotel. He wanted to drop off some of his extra supplies before finding something to occupy himself with for the rest of the day. Yuan seemed to be heading there too, though he wasn't sure why as he had just come from there beforehand.

Yuan realized that he was just going that way because Kratos was. He actually enjoyed his company. Huh, it was a strange eye-opener. Their banter was somewhat entertaining, and it wasn't forced either. He _had_ said he would leave tomorrow, so he didn't really see the point in loitering around town aimlessly. He didn't mind Tethe'alla as much as he thought he would. The people were nice enough to him, though no nicer than could be expected seeing as how he was a half-elf. The city itself was nothing special, but Tethe'alla was a lot like Sylvarant in that regard.

"What are you going to do?" He asked Kratos for the sake of jolting the kid out of his comfortable silence. Who knew how long he could go like that, and Yuan was bored.

"Hang around Sybak, and possibly move from town to town." Yuan thought that was an extremely poor plan of action for anything, and it must have shown on his face, because Kratos clarified. "At least until the king officially passes the throne on to my sister, Nyx in his will. It'd be in all the papers if that happened."

Yuan's suspicions were confirmed. Kratos didn't want to be king, that much was clear. Yuan could understand that, he was only a teenager and he voiced that he hated the war. From the way Kratos said 'the king' and not 'father', Yuan guessed that they weren't on great terms with each other. Kratos didn't seem to love anything about royalty, anyhow.

"You'd hate being king that much?" Yuan knew Kratos had gone to great lengths in order to distance himself from Meltokio.

"I'd be a terrible king, and my sister would be an excellent queen. Somehow my father fails to see that." Kratos shrugged, "It was never an issue as long as I had three brothers ahead of me." Yuan deliberated on that for a moment. He'd thought Kratos was self-assured. He knew his upper and lower limits, everything he could do, but he also knew to stop himself if it was something he couldn't. On this matter, Yuan thought he might just be wrong.

"I think you'd be a good king." he spoke softly as he rolled the idea around. If it wasn't the throne of Tethe'alla, his enemy, he would hope that someone like Kratos was in charge. He had morals, audacity, and was unyielding in his beliefs. The more he thought about it, the only thing Kratos didn't have going for him was his apparent dislike for authority. Yuan then noticed that Kratos was giving him a glare, he didn't seem to grasp that Yuan was serious. If Kratos was king, though, Yuan would be eternally his adversary. He quickly twisted his words into a light jab.

"If you ever bothered to brush your hair, that is." He smirked as Kratos' eyes darted subconsciously to his messy auburn tresses. His glare softened to a mildly irritated scowl and Yuan knew he'd successfully played off the compliment.

"I think you brush your hair enough for the both of us." He noted Yuan's smooth ponytail. Yuan took his turn at frowning and fussed over his locks momentarily. Satisfied that the blue strands were in perfect order, Yuan turned back to him. He opened his mouth to find a clever comeback, but was beat to the punch.

"Between that and the cape, you made quite the first impression." They reached the doors of the inn and Kratos hefted the heavy door open. Yuan rolled his eyes, which he found he was doing fairly often lately. First impressions indeed. Kratos' was a first impression if there ever was one.

Yuan followed the boy inside and decided he didn't really mind failing a mission. Especially if it meant gaining a friendship.

* * *

**(A/N) Okay... so maybe not as much action as I intended, whenever I get to writing Kratos-Yuan dialogue it gets out of hand. I swear those characters will talk about whatever they want regardless of what direction I want to go in. They've definitely got minds of their own XD. I'll try to get the next chapter out soon... Thanx for reading and please review! (I've been taking prompts for my World of Oneshots story as well, so feel free to add some input on that too!)**


	8. Chapter 8

**(A/N) Sorry this took so long, guys. I had a major case of writer's block, but now it's all better! It shouldn't be so long in the future.**

**Disclaimer: If I _did_ own ToS, I'd murder the Iselia mayor in a cruel and bloody assault the first time you meet him... or better yet, just let Forcystus turn him into an exsphere monster, and then let Lloyd kill him.**

* * *

_**Chapter 8**_

* * *

Yuan sighed in content as he cleared the border between Tethe'alla and Sylvarant. Without Kratos there he'd had no trouble finding the same chink in the lines that he made it through. He couldn't say he completely regretted leaving Kratos behind, but the boy's company at times like these would've been appreciated. Yuan was fine on his own, but the distinct silence slowly ebbed on his nerves. Sort of like when Kratos was particularly quiet and Yuan was aching for conversation. He got antsy whenever he couldn't tell what people were thinking. He was generally good at making people think what he wanted them too, so that was almost the equivalent of 'good with people' in Yuan's mind. The obvious lack of people always unsettled him. He put it down to pulling an op without his regiment.

He wondered briefly what they'd been up to the week or so he'd been gone. He wasn't even informed who would be temporarily put in charge in his absence, it was a hasty mission. They were only informed of the other Aurion's death several days after it had occurred, which made the operation plausible. The more Yuan thought about it, the more he found that his regiment's affairs might not have been put in order during his leave. Quickening his pace ever so slightly, as it was already rapid, Yuan's feet pounded into the hard-packed dirt. If he hurried he might make Triet the next morning.

* * *

Kratos inwardly rolled his eyes. Here he was, at the base of one of the tallest mountains in all of Tethe'alla. About to scale it without equipment. For no other reason, other than Xilia thought it might help speed up his exsphere development. Eyeing the jagged cliffs nonchalantly, Kratos figured she might just be on to something if exsphere maturation was built upon thrill-seeking. This was his kind of job, if only he subtracted the pointlessness of it all. At least he was getting payed.

Kratos scratched absently at the back of his left hand. The 'Cruxis Crystal' was mildly irritating to the skin surrounding its application site, but despite that it felt reassuring. He held up his hand so the crystal could catch the light. The precisely cut jewel was not what Kratos had first expected, but the blood red stone reflected vibrant hues, as if the device itself was bleeding. Grimacing faintly at the thought, Kratos let his hand fall limply to his side.

_"Hold still." Xilia pushed her spectacles up with one hand while fiddling with the flaming red stone in the other. Seemingly pleased with its orientation above Kratos hand she let the flat side hover precariously for a moment. Glancing up to meet Kratos' auburn eyes, she flashed a confident smile._

_"It'll only hurt a little, like a bee sting." Kratos was going to respond that he'd never been stupid enough to aggravate a bee into making it sting himself, but she quickly set the stone. He twitched slightly at the shock and he felt the mana in his body pulse in reaction. The pressure was quickly relieved as his body adapted to the intrusion, however, and he felt an influx of power, as if the mana in his body was infused with some kind of catalyst. He flexed his fingers while getting used to the new feeling. Xilia gave him an expectant look._

_"It's fine." He deadpanned, more intrigued with the appearance of the crystal. Upon contact with his skin, it was flushed a deeper red than before. It stood out in stark contrast with his skin. Xilia looked relieved, a gesture that Kratos wasn't sure he liked. It was not a good sign if she expected something bad to happen. He frowned at the scatter brained researcher._

_"First things first, then!" she shifted cheerfully on without picking up on Kratos' disapproval. She tossed Kratos' the heart-monitor from the other day for him to put on. He sighed briefly, but put it on any ways. Hopefully it would be another short day and he would be free to go. He was so wrong._

_"I need an activity that will push your limits, preferably your swordsmanship." She drummed her fingers on the back of her clipboard. Her eyes darted about the room, as if searching for some sort of inspiration._

_"Monsters would do well. It looked to me like you could handle yourself yesterday, so physical stress is the ideal way to mature the exsphere." Her face lit up like a light bulb. Kratos could barely suppress the urge to groan at her childish manners. "I'll send you to the Fooji Mountains!" She decided. Kratos blanched a bit. Power should never be put into the hands of such a woman. "Your task for today is to hike the two hour trip there, scale Mt. Fooji, the tallest one, and to prove it, grab one of the yellow flower blossoms at the peak." She looked deadly serious now. Apparently he'd be doing all this while wearing a heart monitor. Great. _

_Now that Kratos thought about it, he didn't have much to do anyway. Maybe some hiking and training would do him good and serve as a distraction. He didn't have anyone to mess with now Yuan was gone. Busy would definitely be better in his case. It was just a hike anyway, and how bad could that be?_

He had been mistaken in the simplicity of his task. Already having dealt with a myriad of monsters on the trek here, Kratos noted that it had been three, and not two, hours. If he wanted to get back by nightfall, he'd have to make good time and climb the peak in a couple of hours. Spinning to briefly look behind him, he could see Sybak as a dull gray smudge peeking out behind several large hills that lead up to the mountains. Kratos reluctantly trudged up to the base of the tallest mountain, and there really was no contest. It towered above the others, sturdy and rigid in a way that implied it would remain when all else had crumbled to dust. His right hand always on his hilt, Kratos did his best to find the path of least resistance.

* * *

"Sir!" A scrawny Sylvaranti called out, cupping a hand over his mouth. Quite a distance off, Yuan wouldn't have noticed him for another few minutes had he not made his presence known. He was deep in thought.

Yuan's head tipped up and he hurried over to the young subordinate officer. The man, it turned out wasn't really a man after all, he must have been about seventeen. The boy sloppily saluted Yuan's arrival and Yuan nodded for him to be at ease. No one who knew him was so formal. _Knew_ was in a relative sense, though, as most Sylvaranti could recognize him on site simply by his hair. Like this kid. Yuan was about halfway to Triet, and the woods were clearing up and giving way to fine sands.

"Welcome back!" The boy-soldier was reasonably cheerful, and fell in stride with Yuan as he walked. He must not have been informed about the specifics of Yuan's mission, because he hadn't even looked around for another person upon his advent.

"It's good to be back." Yuan relaxed a bit. Being back in Sylvarant was so much more _calming_ than he thought. He'd have to catch up on all of the news on the warfront. So much was missed in a few weeks.

"What's the latest on troop movements?" He chatted amicably. The company was nice as well, even if it was a newbie soldier, Yuan found some of the older soldiers stuffy anyway. The boy practically beamed at his choice of topic. He seemed very eager to please.

"Well, Palmacosta's Third Regiment was sent to relieve Hima's Second at the Meltokio border dispute, and the First of Triet was sent to stem the ground we'd been losing at Latheon Gorge." Yuan nodded through the preliminary data, he'd expected as much. He nearly chuckled when the kid called his regiment the 'First of Triet', as Triet only had one regiment to begin with, but the last bit threw him.

"Did you say Latheon Gorge?" Yuan had stalled in his steps. The boy nodded brusquely, now comfortable enough apparently to continue.

"We were facing heavy losses on that front, and the Tethe'allans gained almost a mile inwards. It needed reinforcement." There was a determined glint in his eyes, something almost bloodthirsty.

"Latheon Gorge is a death trap!" Yuan was now worried, "There is no strategic positioning on our side of the border and the Tethe'allans have the upper ground. We should have cut our losses and held at Ossa Trail." His troops were in the thickest and most pointless section of bloodshed without him and he started his walk again feverishly. He needed to get to the bottom of this. The boy looked taken aback at his response, but matched his pace anyways.

"Who's commanding them?" Yuan spat hurriedly in an afterthought.

"Hm." The boy thought about it for a moment. "Commander Suguro, I think." Yuan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Suguro and he didn't really see eye to eye on battle strategy. He wasted lives for pitiful feet of territory, and Yuan wouldn't have him wasting _his _troops' lives. The boy looked guilty after witnessing Yuan's reaction to his news. He tried to better the situation.

"But there's good news, too!" His eyes widened while he furiously nodded his head. "Didn't you hear? The King of Tethe'alla is dead!" His enthusiasm was painfully evident. Yuan gave him a second glance. _Dead_? A quick passing that went by so unnoticed.

"And get this-" The boy was obviously enjoying Yuan's rapt attention. "His _daughter_ is going to be crowned queen. This is exactly what we've been waiting for! The Aurion throne is in disarray, and we need to crush them before they get organized again." Yuan was still shocked, and the nameless soldier took that as cue to continue his bubbly rant.

"Apparently his son, Kratos, just disappeared. Ran away or something, like a coward. That and the other death of the militant prince must've crushed the King, who was already sick. So they'll have a _Queen_!" he looked mighty pleased with himself. Yuan had stopped again. This was one too many a bombshell to drop on him today.

No matter how happy he should be at this vital information, he was strangely empty. Kratos' father was dead, but Yuan had started to think of him as _Kratos'_ father and not 'the King of Tethe'alla'. He should be planning attacks and anxiously twitching for a quick end to the war, but he felt ashamed. He couldn't diagnose the hollow feeling that overtook him. He would've been eager just two weeks ago for this turn of events. What had changed?

Yuan met Kratos.

He _liked_ Kratos. A Tethe'allan boy, and royalty, and he had given up his orders for him. A Sylvaranti and a Tethe'allan should never be on speaking terms with each other, but Kratos stood up for him. He was a character, to say the least, and Yuan had seen how the war affected him. Kratos abhorred the violence that took his brothers from him, and Yuan witnessed the loss in his eyes when he mentioned his sword. That pang of sadness when he realized the Tethe'allans suffer, too. And now Kratos lost his father. They might not have gotten along, but Yuan didn't like the idea of cheering at his friend's misfortune. Misfortune was an understatement. It would be morbid to exalt at another's loss. Kratos was his friend, then, and Yuan was disgusted at the young soldier's uncalled for excitement. And he'd said Kratos was a coward. Was it cowardly to be decent and have morals? Yuan frowned.

The frown turned into a glare and he walked on, no longer caring if the subordinate kept up.

"Do not rejoice at the death of a respected adversary." His words had darkened with his expression and the disapproval radiated out of his gaze in thick waves. The boy stammered an apology and let the silence hold this time. His fuming began to die down and Yuan found he was angrier at the war for making children into warriors. He, himself, was one such soldier, though he felt years older than the naive child that had never seen battle.

Yuan was much more content in the silence, while he sorted his thoughts. Maybe Kratos was rubbing off on him.

* * *

Kratos inhaled sharply as his hand slipped from the knobby ledge. He _had _been in the process of pulling himself up to another rocky landing, yet now he was dangling from one arm over the precipice of certain doom. He'd made quite a distance up, and already his blood was pumping with adrenaline and anxiety. Allowing one brisk look down was a bad choice. He was good with heights, but somehow knowing he might fall and/or skid down half a mile of sharp protruding stones dampened his opinion on them.

He swung precariously for a moment with his momentum petering out, and then cautiously found a new handhold to wrench his body up to the safer ridge. Why was he doing this again? Oh yea, the whim of a scatterbrained researcher. That encouraging sentiment was the source of his physical strain. He let himself lay breathless for a second on the wide outcropping.

His respite was brief. An enormous nesting crow was disturbed from its own safe haven and viciously stirred up its wings to attack. The bird was easily half Kratos' size, if not bigger, and its beak was like a pick axe. He leapt from his reclined position on the wide ledge and drew his sword in time to ward off the first strike. The bird flitted about heavily and attempted to land a peck on his torso, but Kratos twisted to the more stable mountainside and cut his blade across the crow's body. It shrieked in a hideous last battle call before Kratos silenced it for good with a sonic thrust. The demon bird disintegrated upon the killing blow into the coarse dust that all monsters break into. Kratos wrinkled his nose at the creature's ashen remains as they began to diffuse in the wind. Disgusting.

"Never had a chance." Kratos muttered to himself, while sheathing his blade and examining the rest of the rocky level he was on for any more monsters. He was feeling pretty accomplished with his timely progress, and it wasn't from lack of interference. He was definitely stronger and could keep up his speed much longer with his new exsphere. He might be imagining it, but he felt as if his vision was sharper than before. He could see into the darker cracks where light never touched with unmistakable clarity, and his sight extended into the distance. This appreciation to detail so far away got him a bit distracted, but it was worth it. It was as if the rocks several hundred yards away were right under his nose to be inspected in the best light. The acuity was an added bonus, and Kratos immediately attributed it to the Cruxis Crystal. Looking down at his hand, the stone looked less out of place. It was still scathingly bright and vibrant, but Kratos felt as if the energy it contained was seeping into his veins and empowering him as well. It didn't feel like a parasite as his first impression of the device had suggested.

A rustling of feathers and flapping noises sounded somewhere behind him, towards the open air. He groaned inwardly. It was stupid of him to assume the crow was a loner. Crows always traveled in flocks, and large ones at that. He spun around and redrew his shining blade. Four more of the enormous birds were setting course for him from around the curvature of the cliff, evidently responding to the final call of their deceased companion.

Rest just wasn't in the cards for him today.

* * *

Xilia was minding her computer station, periodically checking Daisuke's heart monitor data. He was probably running into quite a bit of trouble, but secretly she needed the flower blossom for another completely unrelated experiment dealing with pollens of the region. It was an added bonus that Daisuke had the means to get it, because making an expedition out of it would've been a hassle and she really wasn't good with preparations.

Come to think of it, she'd put that pollen experiment on hold for a while. Why was that again? Her mind could never seem to keep focused on any one thing, but she needed to remember why she'd let it slide back on her priorities list. Oh! She tapped her pencil on the table as she recalled the ordeal. It was because that particular blossom was only found in early spring, immediately after the winter frost melted. Her forehead creased upon the realization.

It was late summer. Daisuke wouldn't be able to find the flower blossom, no matter how long he looked. She hung her head at her own stupidity. She could pretend that she was just testing him...

* * *

**(A/N) Drop a review and tell me what you think! I'll try to get the next chapter up soon XD!**


	9. Chapter 9

**(A/N) Next chapter done! Thanks for the reviews, guys, it's good to know how this stuff is coming across to the readers. Please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned ToS, I'd play Kratos' theme during the intro and I'd also have them give audio to the skits (like in ToS 2, but I'm still pretending they didn't make that travesty...), but sadly I don't own. So please don't sue! XP**

* * *

_**Chapter 9**_

* * *

Kratos glared vehemently at the surrounding vegetation. There were no flowers. Not a single remotely colorful petal. Weeds and wiry bushes littered the sparse peak, but for the most part it was a barren and rocky region with little life whatsoever. He sat dejected dangerously close to the edge. Xilia was a dimwit. He should have known better than to accept such a ludicrous task. It was late afternoon by now, and the sun hung languidly just past its zenith.

Kratos took the time to appreciate his work, and carelessly let his legs sway over the edge. A wide blue sky stretched flawlessly across the horizon, paling as it met the earth. There was something wonderful in the solitude. A breeze ruffled his hair and the temperature, that would most certainly be warm down at sea level, was pleasantly cool at this altitude. From up here, he could spot the city that was Sybak, and the surrounding wooded region. Mountains and hills rolled through the land like a frozen wave, and the creatures trapped to its surface seemed small and insignificant.

Humans, elves, dwarves and anyone in between really didn't see the big picture. He could see everything from up on the mountain's peak and petty territorial disputes didn't matter where he was. Sighing softly at the incompetence of mankind, Kratos hoisted himself up and grabbed a fistful of weeds. He'd need a flower substitute for Xilia's stupid proof. Dusting himself off, Kratos began the trek back.

* * *

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?!" Yuan was barely holding his temper. Any second now and it would skyrocket out of control. He kept his fists cemented tightly to his sides, if only for fear of brutally mauling the idiotic man in front of him and eliciting a court marshal. He would do no good for his troops if he was discharged.

"It was the only option." The man grudgingly admitted, though he saved Yuan from any retaliating anger that might have entered his tone in another circumstance. Yuan was understandably upset at the turn of events. In fact, upon hearing the news he'd sprinted the last half of the distance to Triet. The rookie soldier was left in the dust, unable to match Yuan's stride. He'd made up so much time that it was only early evening, when he was going to have to stop for the night along the way. Panting and fuming, he'd barreled his way to the military headquarters of Triet and marched himself right up to the commander in chief stationed there.

"No it wasn't." Yuan's tone was eerily calm now, and had a dangerous edge to it. He was being incredibly disrespectful to his superior, but if the army didn't need its ass handed to it every once in a while, then he wouldn't have had to take this stand. They'd crossed a line.

"Anything else would have resulted in a substantial loss of territory to the Tethe'allans, and we'd already lost too much ground on that front to ignore." He was patronizing him, Yuan realized. With evident disgust flashing through his features, Yuan grimaced.

"Then lose the damn territory!" He barked, "It's not worth killing off an entire regiment under faulty command!" He narrowed his eyes. This war was degrading quickly into mindless idiocy. Lives merited so much more than feet of territory, but everyone had become so disturbingly desensitized to death, that they no longer knew their true worth.

"Countless lives were given to get that land, and I will not have their sacrifice be in vain!" He retorted angrily raising his voice.

"The dead are dead and we can't change that, but we're never going to stop the killing unless something gives!" Yuan's yelling escalated to a new high in the conversation. The man couldn't get it through his thick skull that something was wrong, soon to be irrevocable if they didn't fix it.

"The Tethe'allans have to give first!" Yuan spun on his heel and barged right out the double swinging doors so that they were left flapping fiercely in his wake. What a childish notion. Was that what his men, his _family_, were going to die for? They were so much more than that. He was going to stop them, no matter what the Sylvaranti Chief had to say about it.

Someone had obviously gotten the message to leave him alone, because no one bothered to debrief him or stop him on his way out. At least these idiots had a good sense of self preservation. He wasted no time grabbing a horse and riding off into the sands.

* * *

Kratos figured he'd made up plenty of time on the way down, so he had an hour or so to spare along the way back. He wasn't in a rush to get back to his room and do nothing. Deciding on a leisurely pace to walk at, his right hand brushed his left shoulder eliciting a stab of pain. It wasn't a _bad _injury, per se, but it was part of the reason he'd made up so much time on the way down.

Precariously picking his way down the steep slope was more difficult than going up, if only because he couldn't see the hand and footholds as well. He'd gotten about half of the way off the mountain without incident, until a slip in concentration led him to neglect an unstable ledge. Fully putting his weight on his left foot resulted in the rock dislodging from the cliff and a total immersion in the stomach wrenching free-fall. Kratos had gathered his senses rather quickly and the adrenaline pulsing through his veins made the world sparkle in burning clarity. Both his arms scrabbled along the edge of the cliff searching for purchase on its coarse surface. His left arm jerked painfully upward as he managed to catch himself on a protruding root thick enough to hold him up. A searing ache ripped through his shoulder, but he knew well enough that it wasn't dislocated. He'd felt that before, and this, though admittedly painful, wasn't the same kind of pain. After slipping his right arm up to relieve some of his weight, finding footholds was simple.

He was breathing heavily, and after slumping to rest on a wider (and solidly supported) landing, Kratos inspected the damage. His shoulder throbbed and felt as if he had over stretched it. Hopefully that just meant he had strained it and not torn anything. He could fully move everything, which was a good sign, if not for the unpleasantly piercing sting that followed. His hands were scratched and bloodied, the left one with something akin to rope burn, but the scratches weren't very deep. He wasn't that beat up. Glancing back up, Kratos saw the disfigurement in the cliff side where he'd slipped. It was a good twenty yards above his current position, and he'd only transversed about five yards since. Luckily enough for him, that was the steepest part. The mountainside began to smooth out a bit below him, and sooner or later he'd be able to walk the rest of the way instead of climb.

Now he was at that point, and the walk gave his arms a rest. Surprisingly, though he wasn't as tired as he would be expecting, even with heightened endurance. It was a good thing it was his left shoulder, as he needed to be able to properly defend himself. He wasn't incapable of fighting with his left hand, but he was not as well practiced with it as he was his right. As it got dark, he'd have to expect more monsters, though sunset was still a couple of hours off.

His feet found the path easily, as the woods weren't that thick and it was the second time he'd gone over it. Kratos found that he really did enjoy walks, they were good for reflecting, and he didn't have any pesky interruptions marring his contemplation. Nostalgia or something of the sort had taken hold of him, and Kratos fondly wondered what his sister might be doing, and how his father was faring. A row like they'd had was merely a difference of ideals, and he hoped his father had understood that much. He'd get a chance to explain better after Nyx was officially became the successor to the Aurion throne. Kratos had never been, well, _good_ with people, and for that reason they seldom saw his point of view. He couldn't accurately represent the people of Tethe'alla when he didn't agree with them, so that would be a travesty of a government if he were in charge. He could hardly force them to desire peace, so he'd have to do it the old fashioned way. Somehow he needed to end this dispute, and he couldn't do that from a cushy throne. Not without it being a dictatorship. To do this, he'd have to eventually play both sides, and that might work best if he didn't have obligations to either.

Kratos broke from his musings as he heard the rustling of brush to his left, most likely a monster of sorts. It sounded as if the leaves were thrashed lightly by wind, but there was no breeze. He drew his blade out of the leather sheath cautiously, while swiftly turning to face the noise. There was no use startling a creature that might not be malicious.

"Whoa there!" A young man's voice called out from behind him, sounding flustered all the while. Kratos nearly jumped out of his skin. The voice had come from behind him, not where he had expected. The small noise he'd heard didn't sound large enough to be human generated either. He spun around quickly enough, still keeping his sword handy.

A young man, perhaps in his late twenties stood crouched on a low oak branch thick enough to support him and just above Kratos' eye level. He tilted his head up to meet steel grey eyes. The man wore fighting garb, but oddly enough didn't appear to have a weapon. Dark, striking features carved out his eyebrows and hair while a thin piece of cloth covered his nose and mouth. The covering was a signature characteristic of the ninja of Mizuho, Kratos realized. At least it wasn't another Sylvaranti.

Despite the presence of a gleaming sword between them, the man managed a smile at Kratos' inquisitive look. Kratos assumed it was a smile from the way his eyes crinkled up affably. The gold lacing on the shoulders of his jacket suggested he was a royal official from Meltokio, and Kratos lowered his sword a bit. Still on edge, this man hopefully wasn't in search of him. He would've come with a sword in that case. The smile slowly faded as the courier realized Kratos didn't intend on speaking immediately.

"Just passing by, I didn't mean to startle you." He leapt nimbly down from his branch and stood squarely to his full height. Kratos frowned at the insinuation, and the tone the man was patronizing him with. It was as if he was some little kid the way this man was talking to him.

"You didn't startle me." He promptly killed any chance the man had at an easy introduction.

"Good! Not many people notice my passing, and you looked prepared to skewer me!" He was still annoyingly chipper about it. Kratos suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

"Is there something wrong at Meltokio?" Kratos inquired, the man wasn't getting anywhere anytime soon and he desired to propel the conversation along. The man looked pleasantly surprised at Kratos' pick up on his attire before his face darkened.

"Ah- so you haven't heard? It's a shame really. I was sent to spread the news along with a couple others just yesterday." Kratos was paying rapt attention now. "I'll be heading to Flanoir next, for the same reason." Patience was not one of Kratos' prime virtues.

"_What_ _is it_?" An anxious feeling was welling up in his chest. The man's eyebrows quirked down, in a good impression of grim seriousness.

"Good King Aurion passed away just the other day. The funeral is going to be held at the end of the week." Kratos blinked.

"Pardon?" He stared uncomprehendingly at the ninja messenger.

"The King is dead. From illness." The man shook his head sadly, sympathetically. Kratos felt the weight crush him, and his breathing quickened. Harshly, he closed the emotions from his face and mustered an unintelligent "Oh." He almost felt as if he was going to be sick. _Dead_? The grief crawled up his throat and his muscles tensed rigidly. His father couldn't be dead. His eyes flashed back to the moment as the courier gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Kratos flinched away from the unwelcome touch to his left side injury. The pain helped him refocus.

"Thanks for telling me, I'll be on my way then." He managed as cordially as possible without letting any intense sadness creep into his tone. Regular citizens were much more distanced from the king, he couldn't act like he was about to break down.

"Sorry, kid." The man averted his gaze guiltily as the bringer of bad news. His choppy shock of black hair licked up in a couple of areas and he nervously smoothed it down. "Guess I'll be off, too. Flanoir's a long walk." He sighed and disappeared into the woods as quickly as he came, leaving Kratos dumbstruck with his sword drawn. He sheathed it and slipped slowly to the ground while leaning heavily against the nearest tree.

He felt heavier. Nervously his hands kneaded the floury soil that powdered the dry forest ground. His father had died. Ceased breathing. Kratos hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. A rising turmoil of guilt and dread and overwhelming grief threatened to drown him. It was _his_ fault, too. He might as well have stabbed him in the heart. And Nyx, oh God, what had he put her through? Now she was forced into an early inheritance of the throne. She was strong, though. She could manage. Absently, Kratos noticed his left hand was searing. It didn't really matter, did it? He was far past caring about his own discomfort.

However, it was distracting.

Kratos glanced down at his Cruxis Crystal to see the gem blazing white hot bands of heat. It coursed up his body, and made his skin tingle feverishly. His hand was burning ferociously where it met the exsphere, and Kratos furrowed his brow. It wasn't supposed to do that. He was prepared to yank the rock off, but the thing dimmed after the short burst of frenetic energy. A rapid cooling sensation replaced the heat, and Kratos curiously examined his hand. It didn't look any different to him, but he'd better get it back to Xilia and possibly remove it.

He should never have left Meltokio. His father's illness was partly due to an aging immune system, and an accumulation of hard losses. Selfishly, he'd become the proverbial final straw that broke the man. He'd dealt with loss before, but Kratos had never been the _cause_ of death. He could have done any number of things to prevent it. His father could be alive and talking to him in his warm and authoritative tenor at this very moment. But he wouldn't be doing that anymore. Contrary to their differences, Kratos still held tremendous respect for him as leader. Knowing that the man probably regretted their final conversation all the way to his grave splintered Kratos' resolve. Another one dead while he was only doing his utmost to prevent death. He couldn't even manage that properly.

Kratos hefted himself up from his limp sitting position and purposefully jarred his shoulder and was rough on his scratched hands. The dull stinging was a much better replacement for the knife that wrenched in his gut when he thought about his father lying cold and lifeless in a coffin. His feet were numb as they deftly lead him back to Sybak.

* * *

When Daisuke returned to the research institute, Xilia noticed an immediate change in his demeanor. For starters he was pretty well worn and relatively beat up. Scratches left light trails of red down his arms while his hands were dirty and had a few nasty gashes that had already stopped bleeding. If she were the type to bet, she'd wager that the climb had not been an easy one. Remorse flushed her features, but she'd expected the boy to be raging mad that she'd accidentally sent him on a wild goose chase.

This new Daisuke was mute and stolid, though he wasn't particularly emotional before. He was even more detached, and his wine-colored eyes seemed to be sullen and brooding. He didn't even muster a greeting, as she called out to him. Instead, she saw the boy roughly reach into the flap of his tunic and wrench a crumpled wad of weeds out. Daisuke dropped said weeds on the lab counter in front of her and muttered something like 'Damn proof' almost too quietly to hear before marching himself out.

Xilia didn't really have the heart to stop him and examine the exsphere. It was her mistake after all. Though she'd rather he got treated for his cuts or other injuries, he'd probably rather get a good night's rest and come in the morning. He was still wearing the heart monitor as well. She'd get it back the next day, anyhow.

That reminded her. She spun in her revolving chair to face her computer station monitor and pulled up the data from his expedition today. High heart rates would mean more stress exerted on his body, and therefore more situations for the Crystal to adapt to. Daisuke's pace of how hard he strained himself would determine the speed at which the technology matured itself, and she was interested in his progress. Her eyes widened behind the flashing lenses as they darted along the reading graphs. His heart rate spiked repeatedly, and his recovery time had vastly decreased in between spikes. Obviously the strain was taking its toll on him, if his recent behavior was anything to go by.

Xilia resolved to send him on something easier, or give him a day off. This was too much. Checking the time stamp, she saw that the last major spike in his heart rate was only about an hour ago. Far too recent to have been attributed to mountain climbing. Monster interference? Not likely, Daisuke didn't even reach those levels of stress in his duel with that half-elf the other day. Perhaps it was a mental stress. She'd investigate tomorrow. The kid had been stressed more than enough today, and she felt bad enough as it was. Sympathy and guilt washed over her. The experiment shouldn't have been this traumatic.

Just what was Daisuke going through?

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**(A/N) Drop me a review! I'll get the next chapter out soon!**


	10. Chapter 10

**(A/N) Sorry this one took so long... it's not even one of my better chapters. I apologize for being so busy with school, after AP tests and SATs are done I'll have tons more free time to write, but until then chapters might be out at erratic times. Sorry!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Tales of Symphonia, Mithos would simply be given a life bottle to revive Martel and everyone would throw a party... then Kratos could stay with Lloyd. But I don't own.**

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_**Chapter 10**_

* * *

Kratos walked torpidly to his room. A certain numbness had seeped into his joints, and they were stiff from either exertion or injury. That was no matter though, he was at his destination. He let himself slide limply onto the mattress. He wasn't anything less than emotionally drained. It didn't hurt anymore. It just felt like nothing, a void of empty space where his heart should be. He should be sad, crying even. No one could see him now; it was safe to cut loose. What kind of wretched son kills his own father, and then doesn't even feel? Kratos shuddered, but not from cold. It was repulsive. He was cowardly. The only semblance of a feeling he could muster was intense guilt and self-loathing. He had felt sad, crushingly so, but it was done. Did that make him callous, or was he just going through abstract stages of mourning?

He wanted nothing more than to drift off into a dreamless sleep, but he forced himself to reflect. His dad was dead. He'd established that fact, and now he had no choice but to move forward, which meant accepting it. Trying his best to detach himself from the situation, Kratos contemplated what that meant for Tethe'alla. The king was deceased, and they'd need to quickly crown Nyx Queen before people started to panic. Nyx was a humanitarian, but she wouldn't go against the wishes of her people. The war would continue at its current pace, if the Tethe'allans were lucky and the Sylvaranti didn't get the jump on them in a brief moment of chaos.

No one expected King Aurion to pass away. He'd been recovering. Maybe it caught the Sylvaranti off guard, too. Kratos knew it was wishful thinking, but tipping the war either way would result in oppression on one side. That could only breed more war. He needed a mutual cease-fire.

He absently noted that it started to rain outside. A light rapping on the roof slates slowly picked up until it was a steady thrumming. Each sound was hollow and sharp sounding. It was a perfect reflection on his mood, he thought grimly. Until he could get the war to stop people would continue to die. How many people had suffered while he simply laid here? How many had died?

Kratos allowed sleep to overtake him, but it wasn't dreamless.

* * *

Yuan crashed through the thick sands at such a pace that he didn't feel the heat rising from it. It was nighttime, which meant that as soon as those sands cooled it was going to get very frigid. Hopefully on horseback he could clear the worst of it at night. Latheon Gorge was several days on foot, possibly half a day on horseback. Yuan was inclined to think he might beat that time at the speed he was pushing his steed. Now that he thought about it the poor horse needed a rest soon. Yuan slowed the creature to a trot and dismounted. He figured they were about half way through the desert part. A thick band of the Gaoracchhia forest protected the Sylvaranti side of the Gorge, but the Tethe'allan side was markedly higher ground, which gave their magitechnology a serious advantage.

Yuan slipped one of the water canteens off of the saddle of his horse and poured it into his hand for the creature to drink. Steady gulps vibrated up its sturdy frame, and Yuan guiltily noted how hard he had been running him.

"Sorry, boy." He muttered apologetically while stroking the curly mane. He could manage to walk for a short while, at least during a quick recovery time. His feet dragged across the fine sands heavily, leaving thick trails it their wake. He trudged alongside his horse.

He didn't know what to prepare for once he reached the Gorge. He might very well have to accept that his men were already dead, or at least a few of them. They must have been there for several days by now, and the fighting there went through men like no other front. He grimaced at the thought. Once he got there, for Suguro's sake, his men better be in one piece.

* * *

Kratos' eyes snapped open once again. He couldn't manage to get more than an hour of sleep at a time before waking. His heart was racing, and his head hurt from the vivid nightmares. He was used to this one by now, it was the only thing that had crossed his subconscious since he had first shut his eyes. The fact that it no longer surprised him made it no less disturbing.

The dull gray light wafting through the window showed the coming of morning. Kratos groaned to himself. He might as well get up now. He needed to think clearly. Kratos rolled himself off of the bed sheets and went to go splash cold water on his face. His injuries still stung a bit, and he'd nearly forgotten about them. Leaving them overnight was obviously a bad choice, and now the cuts were filthy and scabbed over. He cleaned the wounds well, and the only major sources of potential infection were his gashed hands. Wrapping them tightly with gauze would only hinder his swordsmanship, so he simply slipped on his gauntlets and rolled his shoulder. It was definitely swollen, but aside from that Kratos was fairly certain he'd gotten away with a sprain instead of a dislocation. Lucky him.

He cleaned up and prepared to go downstairs and meet up with Xilia before deciding on a new course of action. Trotting down the stairs, he was still weary with lack of sleep. He dragged his feet when entering the research institute, and immediately spotted the woman by her usual station. Xilia looked particularly intent on a piece of data and didn't even blink while analyzing something on her screen. She was also shoveling an impressive amount of food into her mouth. Kratos stopped in his steps.

Breakfast.

He'd forgotten, and remarkably he wasn't the slightest bit hungry. He _had _been busy, but his body wouldn't let him forget that sort of thing no matter how much trouble he had in a single day. Kratos hadn't eaten since- well since the previous morning. That was more than just forgetting. Could it be a side effect of the Cruxis Crystal? He should ask, though, it would be bad if he starved himself only because he couldn't feel hunger.

Xilia had just noticed his presence and shifted demeanors without missing a beat.

"Daisuke!" she called, overly cheerful, "About yesterday-" She looked like she would've kept going for a while, so Kratos took pity on her, though it would've been much better to draw out her suffering. He'd fallen _off_ of that cliff, after all.

"It's fine." He dead panned. This lady couldn't take up all of his time today. She stopped mid-apology.

"Oh. Okay." She shut her mouth and hit a couple of keys on her keyboard. "Well, yesterday you pushed yourself really hard. If these heart rate readings are anything to go by, that is." She waited for input. Kratos merely nodded in affirmation.

"So you should take it easy today, I don't know what could happen if the exsphere matures too fast." Again the boy said nothing. She prodded a bit more, "Any sensory changes? Side-effects?"

"I haven't been hungry since yesterday morning. And the crystal emitted a sort of light and heat during the walk back for a short time. I almost ripped it off." Xilia's eyebrows shot up. Interesting.

"No hunger? I expected a reaction from the crystal, but it should only impact your battle reflexes and important senses like sight and smell and the sort. I'd have to look into that before I have you do anything too stressing. How's your eyesight?" He frowned a bit at the vague response.

"Sharper." Xilia looked pleased with herself at that. Something was going according to plan, at long last.

"Good. The only thing for today is to relax. We're supposed to have mandatory days off for mourning this week. The King's funeral is tomorrow, and it's been designated a 'no work' day so any one can attend." Daisuke's face darkened slightly and his frown deepened into a scowl.

"I know it's sad, but you need to relax for a few days until I figure this out, okay?" She met his wine-colored eyes. His eyes really were a unique color, she noted. Not brown, but not quite red either. In fact, she'd never seen anyone with eyes of that hue. Hm. A genetic experiment idea began to surface in the back of her mind dealing with the passing of hereditary anomalies. He nodded and left in the same sullen manner he had yesterday. He appeared different than at first, though sleep did him well.

Kratos broke out of the stuffy institution's large doors and a sense of openness pervaded the outdoors. He had a few free days before he had to check back in with Xilia. He could attend his father's funeral if he could slip inside Meltokio unnoticed. It was only right that he pay his respects, so it wouldn't be an option to not go. A problem with that situation could arise. Both the Sylvaranti and the Tethe'allans might expect him to show, and he wasn't sure how to respond to Nyx right now.

Whatever he pulled off when he got there, he'd have to leave for Meltokio soon in order to make it. Hadn't he just left that place? Kratos felt as if his life was an eternal walk through forest and mountain range alike.

* * *

Yuan sighed in relief upon sight of a Sylvaranti outpost. The brown tinged flag with a small red insignia in the center meant that his regiment was currently stationed there. He wasn't sure for how long, but this most likely meant that they hadn't had too much time to see battle in the Gorge yet. Already the landscape was shifting to craggy rocks and low shrubs with only occasional patches of sand as evidence of the massive desert he'd just left behind. He rode his horse through the securities gate and waved off the guards. They all knew him.

Riding up towards the main establishment, Yuan scanned for any signs of bloodshed. This might also be the first place they retreated to if they had trouble maintaining the border. The actual Latheon Gorge lay several miles ahead, but the jagged faces of the rocks jutted out dangerously along the opposite horizon. After the initial ravine drop-off, the Tethe'allan territory on the other side was treacherous and hard to travel by. The location itself was part of the reason the area was so hard to hold. The boundary at the deep cut into the land would tip into Tethe'alla's favor if at all. Sylvarant had a much flatter edge of the Gorge, and because of that, if the Tethe'allans breached the pass they could take an enormous amount of territory.

If the commander he'd talked to was correct, the Sylvaranti were already losing ground. This spot might be the breaking point of the war. It had been at a stalemate for the past few years until the fighting escalated as both sides grew more desperate. What triggered aforementioned desperation were the dramatic technological leaps Tethe'alla had made. They were working on all kinds of magitechnology that most Sylvaranti civilians still thought were myths. Yuan and a few other regiment leaders were working on their own advancements (grudgingly based off of many Tethe'allan designs), but did not progress as rapidly.

Yuan spotted one of his soldiers and quickly dismounted his steed. The poor horse huffed with exhaustion, and the half-elf sympathetically passed off the reins to a watchman. Turning away, and feeling the weight of an all-nighter, Yuan called out to the man.

"Oi! Kenta!" The sharp blue eyes of his second in command met his instantly. A broad smile spread across the young man's usually stony features, revealing white teeth that appeared almost angled inwards as some people are inclined to have.

"Yuan, sir!" He mock saluted as Yuan closed the gap between them. Now that Yuan got a good look at the guy, he seemed in good enough standings to have fared through Suguro's leadership. None of his men were formal around him, so another commander was bound to encounter- er- some _rebellious _ behavior. Yuan smirked at the thought. Served him right for taking his regiment out without informing him.

"How went the mission?" The brunette asked cheerily, rubbing his neck. Yuan shook his head.

"Inconclusive." That was all Kenta's clearance allowed him to know, but the man was not thrown off by this. He was intelligent enough to know when things didn't concern him. His straight hair hung over his eyes in short bangs, giving his eyes the appearance of a puppy dog's despite his age of 27. Blissfully ignorant. Yuan sighed, though regardless, he was happy to be back with his men. He could manage them well enough to get everyone through this potential bloodbath.

* * *

Kratos took the direct route to Meltokio from Sybak, meaning it wasn't as round-about as his trip away from the capital. He could reach the city by late evening if he kept up his quick speed. This exsphere really did boost his limits, and he was grateful. How else would he get to the funeral in time?

The forest was alive around him, birds chirping and plants rustling. The sound of cicadas was so thick that it muffled his sense of hearing. Despite the semblance of such life, the ground was easily travelled and not marred by troublesome foliage that hindered his movements. That would be the Gaoracchhia forest, so thick and gnarled that one saves much more time by simply going around instead of braving through. Not the surrounding woods of Meltokio, though, these were his woods.

Having good bearings on his route, Kratos judged himself to be nearing the patrol perimeter of Tethe'alla's capital. He'd have to steer clear of the scouts and security Knights if he wanted to make it in unnoticed. Unless they changed their patrol times since he left- though he wouldn't put it past them- the guards would be crossing his path right when he expected to be there. Talk about timing, he could either slow down and risk running into other travelers, who would most definitely come flooding into Meltokio, or attempt to beat the Knights to the perimeter and slip through. He was already at a fast paced step, and a mile or so off, but he needed to get in quick if he expected to beat those other Tethe'allan citizens that may have left as soon as they heard the news. His father had been a revered King, popular among the people. Certainly many people would come, more than Kratos was prepared to deal with.

In fact, he still hadn't resolved the problem of his appearance. Almost every high ranking noble, or royal guard would be able to point him out. Not to mention his situation was very much public from what he could tell. Everyone thought he was either craven or abducted, and as far as they knew, they should be on the lookout. His spiky auburn hair was too unique to be ambiguous, so he'd likely need to procure a hat or helmet of sorts. A helmet would be ideal, because not only would it cover up his hair, but also any distinguishing facial characteristics. Helmets would stand out if they weren't part of a uniform the people were accustomed to.

The more he thought about it, it might actually be a good idea to run into one of those Knights.

Kratos checked his pace to slow a bit down, then checked the sun. If he was right, he'd be meeting a patrol of three Knights a quarter mile ahead in about a half hour. He'd have ample time to prepare an ambush. It would be tricky though, if they saw his face they would surely recognize him. All of the patrol guards were part of the Tethe'allan Royal Knights that were posted at the castle. Catching them by surprise should save him on that front, if he played his cards right. Kratos was slightly reassured with the beginnings of a plan, but was broken out of his machinations when he heard muffled voices to his left. Either he misjudged the time, or the patrol was early. It didn't really matter which, because this was probably the only isolated group of Knights he would encounter for several hours. Hours he couldn't afford to waste if he wanted to make it the rest of the way in before tomorrow. His plan of an ambush would have to be compiled hastily. Kratos drew his blade as the steps and clanking of armor grew nearer. He braced his back against a clump of wide trunked trees. He'd knock them out after they passed his position. He slowed his breathing forcibly.

At moments like these, strange fragments of reminders tend to surface. In any other situation it might be humorous- what the brain likes to remember in the spurn of the moment. Kratos smirked in spite of the approaching Knights. Didn't Xilia say he should relax? There was a slim chance he'd be doing any of that in the near future.

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**(A/N) Sorry again it's so choppy and not my usual quality, I wrote different parts at completely separate times, so it won't flow as well. Any way, I know where the next few chapters are going, so expect better next time!**


	11. Chapter 11

**(A/N) Hey guys! FINALLY got this out... AP tests are over and my classes are essentially finished, so that means time to update more regularly. You can expect lots more in the near future (especially cuz we're getting to the good parts) now that I have ample time to complete it. Sorry about the long wait- my version of studying is serious cramming because I don't study all year, but we don't have to worry about that anymore.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything but the storyline... shame, too. The things I could ****_do_**** with ToS...*sigh***

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Kratos heaved a deep breath and slipped out from his hiding place. His conviction was set along with his first silent step, and his targets came into view. Their silver chest plates and helmets flashed intermittently in the patches of light between branches and his sure-footed trek led him straight at their unsuspecting backs. The Knights walked side-by-side in a professional manner, but they didn't know what hit them.

Holding his sword handy, he slammed the butt of the hilt hard against the back of the right-side guard's helmet and landed a heavy kick in the upper back of the left-hand guard. Their armor clanged hollowly with the force of both blows, but it did them little good and they crumpled to the ground. In the split-second following the preliminary assault, the central Knight whirled to face Kratos while the shield in his left arm came up defensively. His right hand shot towards his sheathed weapon, but Kratos used his heel to sweep the man's legs out. Spotting his chance, Kratos sharply struck the crown of the Knight's head with his hilt, and consequently at a seam in the smooth metal of his helmet. After the man was rendered unconscious, Kratos stood there for a moment to catch his breath.

He thought he'd gotten away without being recognized, but it was difficult to tell. The only gaugeable characteristic underneath all the shell-like metal encasements were the eyes of the Royal Guards. The visors on the helmets were slanted inwards in just the way to shed light on a 'V'-shaped band across the face. The hazel eyes on the central guard had widened noticeably in either shock or recognition- though probably a combination of the two- before Kratos had knocked him out. Hopefully any impeding headaches would clear up that problem. He spent a moment to reassure himself that the Knights were completely unconscious and nothing more serious before examining their apparel.

He needed to blend in with the Knights that were bound to be on duty for crowd control. Nobody would give a Royal Knight a second glance. He slid an undamaged helmet off of one of the men's heads carefully. He found it to fit him fine and took various pieces of armor off of the others. Hopefully they'd think that the missing items were randomly plucked, and to reinforce that he scattered some of their belongings in the general vicinity. It was nothing less than a cut-and-dry robbery. He was just trying to conceal the purpose for the items he stole. His tunic, like those of the guards, would be covered up by most of the solid metal, so it was of little importance. After outfitting himself with the uncomfortable uniform, Kratos readjusted his sheath and set off towards Meltokio once again. His breath echoed oddly off of the helmet, but his vision wasn't impaired at all, nor did it slow him down much. Even with all this trouble, he was probably saving time that would've been spent sneaking through the sewer and drifting through alleyways.

Padding softly through the well-worn dirt path, Kratos saw the main gate through cracks in the trees. It served as the Northern entrance to Meltokio, and was the one most travelers were expected to arrive through for security purposes. A single, solitary Knight would seem rather out of place. As far as he knew, they travelled in teams of three or more. He'd still have to make that detour to the sewers, then.

A Knight could manage by himself inside the city easily enough.

Before the gate-keepers could spot him, Kratos cut swiftly to his right to follow the perimeter of the capital's walls. If his memory served properly, the sewer cut-off was along the older section of the wall, where the grey bricks and mortar were chipped and weathered to a paler hue. That section of the city would be about half a mile from his current location around the slight curvature of the wall. He could handle this.

The scenery around the city was at that brink between tree cover and civilization, so the canopy of leaves provided by the woods broke in some places and had a gradually fading effect as he neared the wall. He was confident, now, that any perimeter set by the Tethe'allan guard would be much farther out. His left glove trailed the regal display of Meltokian architecture as he walked. The sun was setting, and he was right on time. Soon he came across a break in the base of the wall.

Some broken stone supports and pillars hoisted up the weight of the underground's ceiling in a small enclave in the wall. The sewer itself had a fairly small opening in comparison to the height of the rest of the wall. It was also curved in such a way that the location could be overlooked by security. Had Kratos not been following the immediate side of the city, he may have overshot it or missed the location entirely. A thin rivulet of filtered wastewater ran along the barricade for a distance to his right in a small trench. Kratos recalled it fed into a small tributary. The water trail would make it much easier to find, then, if the Sylvaranti had been looking for it. Regardless, the murmur of trickling water seemed to intensify within the musty darkness of the cavern in front of him.

Kratos was about to enter his back-door scheme, but a glimmer of metal caught his eye from behind one of the cement pillars.

Recollections of the battle that took place in that location were still fresh. Who else would have been in such a spot since? Kratos back-tracked a bit to investigate the shiny object. Crouching down into a squat, he swept aside a couple of brick sized pieces of rubble. It revealed the better part of a sheathed sword. _His_ sword. The hilt had been wedged at just the right angle to catch the remainder of the evening light on a thin and round plate of metal on the butt of the sword. The shining blade itself flared with reflections as he unsheathed it. It was beyond a pleasant surprise. Kratos allowed a small smile to grace his lips when he gave it greater thought.

Yuan would've had no other choice but to ditch his weapon as soon as possible. He'd been stupid not to have expected as much. The half-elf wasn't even creative with his hiding place. He could've dumped it in the sewage, but Kratos had been fortunate enough to spot it. Happily, Kratos swapped Typhon's excellently crafted blade for his own. It lay in its place, perfectly hanging at his side.

The evening light was now giving way to a dimmer tint, and soon complete darkness would be upon him. He crept into the dank gloom that was the sewer system. The various catwalks- without railings he might add- were near impossible to make out. He didn't have the holy bottle he'd used to escape with, and the light during his mid-morning flight was more useful than the diffuse jets of weak light that streamed through holes here and there now. His improved eyesight gave him an advantage, but the walk was still much slower going.

The corner of Kratos' mouth twitched up at the memory. What was Yuan doing at this very moment? It would be improbable that they ever cross paths again, Symphonia was an enormous place. Yet, somehow Kratos knew he wouldn't be surprised if he ran into the Sylvaranti half-elf once again.

* * *

Yuan slid a battered helmet over his head and tightened the straps on his armor. Time to take the offensive. The more he thought about it, the more blatantly obvious it seemed that the Tethe'allans would strike with as much power as they could muster after the King's death. They weren't foolish. It would be an organized attack from the Sylvaranti forces that would unhinge them without a commander-in-chief. If they could prevent that attack, then they could probably order themselves in the chaos that ensued. The late King's daughter, Nyx Kratos had called her, would have to be decisive and quick on her feet after she was crowned. As far as Yuan knew, she would officially be crowned Queen of Tethe'alla after the funeral service. So the separate military commanders of the Tethe'allan army would be acting on their own.

Just as likely that they'd be playing their strongest cards.

Yuan and his regiment planned to catch them by surprise. If they could just flank the enemy and push them back to retreat to the pass, then it would be an even battlefield again. The problem with Latheon Gorge was that it was near impossible to maneuver. It remained a valuable location to either side because of the single stony bridge that traversed the deep trench. Whichever side controlled the bridge could control their own flow of forces into the enemy's country. Without it, an army would have to travel a considerably larger distance to be met with a well fortified and easily defensible border. For the Sylvaranti, this pass was their closest option to launch an assault on the Tethe'allan capital of Meltokio. For the Tethe'allans, winning it could surely guarantee the capture of the isolated desert city of Triet. Whatever the case, both sides wanted the pass under their control.

Yuan wouldn't let the Tethe'allans take Triet. That was _his_ town. His home, too, when he chose to stay there. His regiment felt the same way and was prepared to fight for it.

It was early morning and they were all well rested. Yuan planned to split his team into two groups to out flank both sides of the Tethe'allan controlled territory. They'd only have to push the Tethe'allans back a half a mile before they could try to take the bridge. Kenta would lead one group and he would head the other. It could be a foolish mistake, but Yuan figured now was as good as any time to strike.

He summoned his butterfly blade, mentally preparing himself. The ground was too rocky for the hooves of horses, it would a battle of infantry. His men were ready, the sun was already high up in the sky, and he was primed. There was no excuse to falter.

"Let's go!" He roared out to his troops confidently. Their grim, battle-hardened faces nodded back at him. Then, they marched off towards the deepest ravine in all of Symphonia.

* * *

Kratos blinked in the sunlight. Something about the morning felt ominous and looming, as if something treacherous and awful was about to take place. It was an eerie feeling, and Kratos couldn't seem to shake it. The streets of Meltokio were crowded and bustling, but not in its usual boisterous manner. Everyone wore dark shades of grey and black, aside from the Knights whom were armor-clad. Mourning did not fit this city, but the quiet shuffling of bodies spoke otherwise.

He stood stiffly in the restrictive armor along the path way in the market. Here he looked to be assigned to a post like so many others. After the last of the stragglers moved in to attend the procession, he would follow. It was a simple plan, one he wasn't sure was going to work because it was so straightforward. Plans were prone to change, so there was no use complicating an already obsolete preparation with details. Due to unforeseeable circumstances, something would come up forcing him to wing it.

Being back in Meltokio was a nostalgic sort of feeling, though he hadn't been gone long. He grew up in these streets, and that only heightened the feeling of melancholy and sorrow at his father's death. Guilt wrenched his gut at the thought of seeing the coffin, hearing the eulogy. God- what had he been thinking when he left? The crowd had thinned out and Kratos allowed himself to drift along behind them. He marched as he was accustomed to seeing the Knights walk. The armor was cumbersome to wear in the city, when there was little to no possibility of attack, but Kratos was thankful the Knights saw it a necessary burden. It would be unfeasible to conceal his face among so many people any other way.

Kratos examined the sides of the narrow streets. Nothing looked out of place, but he couldn't get over the hunch that something was off. There were no people lining the market stalls, and the steady stream of mourners headed to the funeral treaded like ghosts. After rounding the final corner, Kratos could see the massive crowd of people that had accumulated. A sea of downturned heads spanned in front of the courtyard that lay before the royal castle. Still feeling vaguely suspicious, Kratos let his eyes drift over the civilians.

Kratos neared the perimeter of the crowd, still drawing a blank on the cause of his unease. Though, he did notice several other Royal Knights circling the mass, the closest was only about thirty yards to his left. Noticing the man's rigid stance, Kratos mimicked his position, closing the loop leading back to the road. No one spared him a glance, and he had a perfect view of the raised platform at the head of several stairs which elevated the back half of the courtyard. From the several important looking priests and an elegantly dressed woman Kratos could only guess was Nyx from this distance, it was clear that the coffin was to be placed there. His eyes narrowed on Nyx. If she felt uncomfortable, he couldn't tell. She was good at hiding that sort of thing. She appeared to be holding up very well considering the circumstances. Kratos let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding while sizing up her condition.

They were the only ones left, after all.

Kratos was hit by another wave of guilt. He needed to hold it together, or he would be found out. He noticed too late that the guard to his left was approaching him at a brisk march. Damn. He couldn't know already? Kratos did his best to stand calmly, straightening his stance to stand at attention when the guard neared. The man nodded, the only thing visible his sharp blue eyes.

"We've got a problem." The man spoke softly, but his voice was still strong enough to carry a determined edge.

"Where?" Kratos' eyes darted back to the crowd, his suspicions confirmed as he sifted through the faces again.

"At your 10 o'clock, the one wearing the grey traveling cloak." Kratos honed in on the aforementioned man immediately. He blended in nicely, but the way he kept near the back of the crowd and casually snuck glances of his surroundings rubbed Kratos the wrong way. The man had a weapon as well, which wasn't uncommon among Tethe'allans in general, but the manner his hand guarded it reflected apprehension. His dark hair hung over his eyes, adding to the air of not wanting to be noticed. Kratos nodded to the other guard.

"Looks like a Sylvaranti." he muttered quietly. Hopefully there was just one. He frowned. Crashing a funeral was low even for times of war.

"We should handle him." The Knight inclined his head in the direction of the designated Sylvaranti.

Kratos was only able to give a curt nod. Of course he'd get looped into doing something like this. They both started to weave their way through the crowd towards the man. Unfortunately, he chose that moment to glance up in their direction. Steely grey eyes peered from behind the locks of his hair, and momentarily looked caught like deer in the headlights. Instead of staying frozen, though, he broke into a run through the crowd in the opposite direction.

"Dammit" The guard cursed next to him, and they both broke into a run trailing the Sylvaranti.

Cries of surprise trailed their chase as the man roughly shoved through unsuspecting mourners. People shuffled in the densely packed crowd to make way for them, yet it did no good. Kratos did his best to slip through the tangle of people that were left in the man's wake, but it looked as if he was intentionally knocking people over to slow down his pursuers. The sea of people was going to run out soon, as the man had cut across at a shallow angle to make a break for the nearest alleyway. Kratos knew they could make up ground as soon as there were fewer obstacles.

The Sylvaranti about ten yards ahead yanked the shoulders of an on looking man and threw him behind directly in the path of Kratos and his new acquaintance. Kratos sidestepped, but his fellow Knight ran head on into the black-clad civilian with a muffled 'Oomph'. Pulling ahead, Kratos finally cleared the barrier into open air and the feeling of claustrophobia lifted considerably. The object of his attention, however, was flashing around the corner, apparently also much lighter on his feet in the open territory.

Another Knight near the perimeter that had been set up called out at the sight of Kratos and his temporary companion, and immediately joined in the pursuit. Kratos spun around the corner and caught sight of the suspicious man, who seemed to be taking the fastest route to the sewers. That was a bad omen, Kratos thought as he heard the other Knights clamoring loudly at his heels. Unfortunately they were nearly there.

Rounding the next corner, Kratos saw the head of dark hair vanishing under the manhole cover. He took no time in plunging after him, having no choice to do anything but appear convicted of his purpose. Picking one side was so much easier than playing both, but it dictated his options too thoroughly. Breathing heavily, Kratos' eyes adjusted quickly, but he didn't hear much.

He tentatively took a step forward, very conscious of the loud echo of his breath against his helmet in the eerie silence. Surely the man couldn't have disappeared so quickly without a noise. A small shuffling noise behind him, paired with a similar sound to his front caused Kratos' eyes to widen slightly.

_It was a trap_.

"Wait, don't-!" Kratos turned back to the opening from whence he came, swiftly drawing his sword at the same moment the other two Knights clumsily fell through the opening above. Their armor flashed in the only pillar of grey light diffusing through the opening and cast an erratic flare of dim illumination through the cavern. Just enough light to make out several hostile figures surrounding them.

Damn. The Sylvaranti's plan B was clearly to get his hands on information if he was made. Like a fool, Kratos had followed. It wasn't as if Kratos could have made any other choice without drawing attention to himself, though, so he prepared to fight. The Tethe'allans to his back appeared confused, but must've drawn their weapons, because the grating sound of metal on metal screeched abruptly following the vicious assault. Kratos took the initiative, pouncing into the darker area of the sewer where he could still make out several shapes.

His disadvantage was glaringly obvious, and Kratos didn't even know the exact number of attackers that lay in wait. Hopefully they were just as affected by the dark as he was, because the shadows were in sharp contrast with the almost holy spotlight of the entrance.

Kratos heard the whiz of the dagger before he saw it, and shifted the side of his blade to glance off of it, redirecting its course. This would be a battle of fractions; none could deflect quickly enough given such a brief reaction time. Kratos hammered the flat of his blade into what he thought was the midriff of an opponent, twisting as he heard another hiss of sword cutting through air. God, was he grateful for the enhanced hearing his exsphere granted him, Kratos thought as he narrowly avoided what could've been a deadly strike. He ducked and spun into a low kick in order to clear his bordering arena, foot colliding with a shin. He sprung back up and rammed his hilt into the stomach of the newest target he located, feeling the man fall backwards.

"Stop!" A breathless voice- albeit vaguely familiar- called out, tinged with a triumphant edge. Kratos couldn't stop himself from turning towards the sound of the distraction. The initial Sylvaranti had stepped into the beam of afternoon light, holding the first Tethe'allan Knight in a headlock. Somehow, the man's helmet had gotten pulled off. The dagger dug into the skin at the guard's throat, tracing a thin red line down his neck as it sliced the surface. Now Kratos could see the guard's face, the man had sharp blue eyes and grey-brown hair. He was older than Kratos had expected, certainly much older than his Sylvaranti adversary who drew Kratos' full attention.

Dark features and steel grey eyes framed by black hair.

Kratos scowled despite the fact that no one could see it. It was the messenger. The one who notified him of his father's death, though now the man went without the cloth covering over his mouth. If he truly was of Sylvarant, then the enemy of Tethe'alla had penetrated much deeper through espionage than Kratos had suspected. The faux courier smiled eerily as his eyes darted around in the shadows searching for the Royal Knights.

"Surrender or this one dies."

* * *

**Anyway, sorry for the wait. Just a couple of things to say in my long absence:**

**Arodelle: No worries, I have not abandoned this. Not even close, I've been insanely busy between exams and soccer, but now I've got time! I appreciate the concern.**

**Marina Ka-Fai: Thanx a ton for the regular reviews, and I just recently found some of your youtube AMVs on Kratos and Yuan, and I love them... You rock, thanks for the support!**

**Reina Ann Vilre: Thanks for sticking with this story so long! I know I don't respond to every review, but yours mean a lot!**

**And thanks to everyone who has fav'd and alerted, you guys keep me going! I'll get another one out soon!**


	12. Chapter 12

**(A/N) Hey guys! Next chapter out-I promise tons more action is coming in the next one... though I have SAT and a soccer tournament next weekend, so there might be a slight delay on the next update (not too long though; expect around a week and a half or so from now!)** **Thanks to everyone who fav'd and alerted last chapter! Hope you enjoy:**

**Disclaimer: If I owned ToS, Kratos would stay with Lloyd and help him collect exspheres on his boat. Too bad. I don't, so don't sue me!**

* * *

_**Chapter 12**_

* * *

The hard gaze of the Sylvaranti scanned the darkness for the remaining Tethe'allan Knights; his arm was locked at the elbow in its unforgiving hold on his captive. He tightened his grip on his dagger.

"Show yourselves, I'm losing my patience." Kratos huffed irritably at the domineering sneer the man managed to pull off. He stepped over the unconscious bodies of several unknown attackers, where he knew they fell anyway- he couldn't see them. Creeping softly in a slow circle around the man, Kratos barely kept his balance on the narrow edge of the pathway. The conduit was so thin, in fact, that he had to pass within a couple of yards of the Sylvaranti in order to get around him. At his nearest point, Kratos' footfall was hardly audible, yet somehow the man heard him.

The dark haired male's head jerked to the side, eyes trained on Kratos immediately. He just as quickly turned to face Kratos' new position though Kratos was fairly certain that he couldn't actually see him.

"Don't move. There'll be no sneaking out while I'm here." Kratos raised an eyebrow in surprise. Perhaps he _could_ see him. The red head didn't have a solution just yet to the hostage crisis, so he had no other choice than to step forward.

"For the record, I wasn't going to sneak out." He muttered darkly with his hands in the air. The Sylvaranti looked somewhat pleased, though he no longer looked directly at Kratos. Several other enemy soldiers made their way to his location, now dimly visible in the outer cone of light. They wrenched the sword off of his belt and clamped a tight hold on his shoulder. His _injured _shoulder. Kratos grimaced slightly.

"Where did the other one go?" The apparent commander of the group demanded to one of his subordinates.

"He bolted up the entrance as soon as the first one got off a warning, sir." Came a curt and formal reply from one of the men behind Kratos. The commanding Sylvaranti, the only one Kratos had a face to pair with a voice for, pushed the hostage Knight at one of his officers. The man stumbled clumsily, breath ragged from holding it.

"Damn, we better break for it. If he gets reinforcements, we're as good as caught." The man sheathed his dagger and swiftly took stock of his party. "Where'd Rodriguez and Fujishima go?" he questioned.

"They're over here sir!" One man called from where Kratos knew he'd knocked out several Sylvaranti, "Unconscious" The one in charge cursed vehemently.

"How'd they manage that?" He spat while running a hand through his hair in frustration, "We had the jump on them!" He let his hands fall to his hips while shaking his head. "Well, we can't leave them. Drag them as best as you can without slowing down."

"Yes sir!" The same man replied while hoisting a knocked out body over his shoulder. Kratos suppressed a snort. It wasn't really fitting for him to be laughing at the moment.

"Come on!" The commander barked, which prompted the Sylvaranti behind Kratos to shove him roughly. Again with the pushing. Kratos followed easily enough, tracing the latticed framework of pathways behind several other Sylvarantis. The dark, dank, and foul smelling sewers were starting to get a bit too familiar, and Kratos didn't like how accustomed he was to this trip already. What was this? The third time through? It shouldn't be a habit of his. Kratos realized that he probably should be a bit more serious in his situation, perhaps even worried, but all he could dredge up was a small portion of regret for missing his father's funeral.

They cleared the sewers swiftly, not even pausing while crossing into the grey light. Kratos' eyes took a moment to adjust, but now he could clearly see a pack of seven armed Sylvaranti standing- not counting the two unconscious ones. How they managed to slip this far unnoticed, Kratos couldn't fathom. It was a particularly large group, only augmented by Kratos and the other Knight's presence. The commander wasn't fazed, however. He set off along the sewage ditch, evidently making his way towards the river. The remaining Sylvaranti were quick to follow, prodding Kratos and the other Tethe'allan with their weapons. Soon the cover of trees blocked Meltokio from view.

After walking in silence for what must be nearing an hour, Kratos heard the heavy flow of water pouring over rocks. It was clear that they were coming up on the Koiti stream, the largest of the tributaries leading into the Potamos River. It was fed from the caps on the Fooji Mountains that steadily melted until summertime, and when there were none, it was dependent on the harsh rains that beat on the windward side of the mountain range. The waters were always cool and clear at this point from Meltokio, and Kratos figured the Sylvaranti were going to use the stream to cover their tracks. Perceivably, they could also follow the creek without much interference until they either met Latheon Gorge if they went further North, or Ossa Trail if they chose to follow the Potamos River south. All things considered, Kratos decided that they must be headed North, otherwise it would've made much more sense to loop around the southern side of Meltokio and shorten the trip while taking almost immediate refuge in much thicker forests.

They were almost definitely headed to Latheon Gorge, then.

Kratos didn't know how he felt about that. Fortunately, they weren't going to be getting to their destination for at least the better part of a day. On the other hand, the Gorge was the most intense field of battle. Almost all of the mana weapons in Tethe'alla were first built experimentally for combat at the Latheon Gorge, mostly because the location itself was so strategic. Kratos wouldn't wish some of those weapons on his worst enemy.

It was probable that the Sylvaranti desired information regarding Tethe'allan battle tactics in that region, especially now that Kratos knew their destination. It didn't make sense that they would infiltrate as far as Meltokio to reach those ends, though. The faux-courier-now-commander must have had another intention, but aborted his purpose after Kratos and his Knight acquaintance went to confront him. So this was the back-up plan. Having deduced enough for the moment, Kratos was shaken from his reverie with a hand on his shoulder. Everyone had halted in their march.

The man Kratos met upon his return from the Fooji Mountains promptly turned and examined them. His sharp eyes locked onto Kratos', yet there was no flicker of recognition. Questions would likely arise if Kratos were to take his helmet off, and it would most certainly come to light that he was not, in fact, a Knight with valuable information.

"I'm only going to say this once," the Sylvaranti began, taking the time to close the distance between him and the Tethe'allans. "You're going to tell me everything you know about the most recent movements of troops, and then I might let you go." Kratos sighed inwardly. It was to be expected. The Royal to his right, however, spoke up with only a slight tremor in his voice.

"I will not give up my country, sir, so you'd better just kill me now." Kratos blinked. There was a fierce patriotism and loyalty there, and he took the simpler approach.

"Better yet," Kratos began before the Sylvaranti could get a word in, "I'll tell you everything you want to know if you let _him_ go." Kratos shrugged while nodding his head to the man on his right. The stolid manner of his delivery could have been adjusted for believability, but really he was annoyed with the entire ordeal. The Sylvaranti raised an eyebrow while the Knight gaped at him.

"Traitor! How could you give in so easily?" The guard spat while the Sylvaranti holding him back jerked his arm to keep him quiet. The commander had gotten past his surprise and narrowed his eyes at Kratos, nevertheless looking slightly pleased.

"It's his choice." The man nodded to his subordinate officers. "Let him go, the other one saw our faces anyway. It's not as if he'd be alerting them of something they didn't already know." The Knight was released swiftly, the sun casting deep shadows on the rather angry expression he was sporting. His sharp blue eyes met Kratos' russet ones and he gave a final glare before stalking back towards Meltokio.

"Ungrateful," Kratos muttered while rolling his eyes. He actually had a double purpose in negotiating for the Knight's escape. He had no idea how long it would be before the Sylvaranti decided to take his helmet off, but the inevitability of it was reason enough. Any Knight would surely recognize him, and there's no masking that kind of realization. He didn't need a Tethe'allan audience for the confrontation that was bound to happen when the commander no longer believed him to be a Knight either. Not to mention escape would be much easier if he didn't have to worry about another person. It was also safer for Tethe'alla if he gave them his outdated information. Either way, it was the only logical choice.

"You don't seem too afraid." The commander duly noted, almost amused at Kratos lack of discomfort. "Are you so quick to betray your country?" Kratos shrugged indifferently.

"I'm sick of the fighting, and to be entirely honest, you're not that frightening." The Sylvaranti's steely eyes flashed. It was the truth, and the commander seemed to sense that- if nothing else.

"Whatever the case, I won't look a gift-horse in the mouth." The Sylvaranti pushed Kratos ahead of him, and they started their walk anew.

* * *

Sweat beaded along Yuan's brow as he struck another foe down. The rocky crevices were littered with the bodies of soldiers either dead or unconscious. His team had burned a path straight through the thick of the Tethe'allan defenses, and the ensuing battle was a different kind of Hell. Tethe'allan soldiers were steadily retreating, but the damage they did in their defensible positions was substantial.

His plan was working, though. Kenta and the others were on the opposite flank of the Tethe'allans, and both parties were forcing the enemy back bit by bit. The fighting surface was treacherous at best, pockmarked with irregular holes that ranged from ankle deep to small trenches. The stony slabs lay at odd angles, so a battalion would be moving steeply uphill one moment, and then find a gentle downward slope past the peak. The varying elevations made it difficult for Yuan to tell how much further they were from the pass; a small ridge of relatively large boulders barred his view.

His platoon was charging up the jagged surface, and strangely the Tethe'allans didn't put up much of a fight. The initial bloodbath had left many dead. Vibrantly red life-giving blood splattered grotesquely on the grayish stone, almost enhanced by the bleak light. Still, given past circumstances, Yuan had never seen Tethe'allan forces simply turn tail and _run_. As he crashed forward and met no resistance, he began to feel something might be terribly wrong. His forces were strong, but the Tethe'allans were never intimidated by them. Yuan knew he had to watch for a regrouping counter-attack, but for now he was gaining too much territory to hold. The only way they could spread their slim numbers efficiently enough to fortify a plug against the Tethe'allans would be to get much nearer to the bridge. In that way they'd efficiently block the bottleneck that was the pass.

A quick glance back at his team revealed fewer casualties than expected. Injury wise, a few of his men had stab wounds not in the vital areas, but they'd have to watch their blood-loss. Make-shift bandages out of cloth tunics were stained red, but seemed to be holding. Yuan felt fairly good about his men's condition, and wiped some sweat from his brow before turning back to the rocky ridge they were ascending. It couldn't be much further to the bridge.

Yuan's left hand curled tighter around the leather grip of his butterfly blade as his feet deftly scaled the precipice. They had neared the top, a thin flat surface that bent around the section of the ravine that was Latheon Gorge. What lay before Yuan was like a bowl, almost a miniature basin before it cut off sharply into the deepest ravine in all of Symphonia.

The stony bridge was ancient, built so long ago that neither country could remember who constructed it. It was one of the wonders of the world, seemingly a perfect example of fine architecture as tons of smooth stone spanned the deep ravine. Yuan was never one to study such things, but the magnitude and beauty of such a project was not lost on him. He could view the grey stone, seamlessly crafted into the cliff-side, gently arching across the abyss. It was wide for a bridge, but nevertheless narrow for an army. Yuan's eyes scoured the retreating Tethe'allan lines, finding their point of convergence at the bridge itself.

* * *

Kratos and the Sylvaranti trailed along the river side at a fairly calm pace. It was rather peaceful, and his so-called 'captors' were quiet. Perhaps they were uneasy while in Tethe'allan territory, or not very talkative to begin with, but Kratos found the silence quite agreeable. His eyes found themselves sizing up his newest opponents. They weren't really that threatening. The few he'd knocked out had finally awoken and were occasionally darting cautious gazes at him, but aside from them he went ignored by the rest of the party. They were making an escape seem too easy.

After walking for several hours, the commander must have decided that they put enough distance between themselves and Meltokio, because he stopped.

"We'll break for lunch here and rest up a bit. God knows we'll be seeing plenty of action soon enough." He turned to face the rest of his group, a sort of anticipation ringing through his voice. Several Sylvaranti murmured in agreement, and Kratos verified his earlier assumption of their destination. As a few troops began to unpack cooking supplies, though, he was reminded of another problem.

When had he last eaten?

Even after discovering his lack of appetite, Kratos had decided he would eat at regular intervals. It would do no good to pass out from malnourishment despite the fact he didn't feel hunger. Apparently that plan had slipped his mind. He'd been so busy, Kratos didn't recall eating since- since a day ago? Two days? He hadn't eaten this morning because of his infiltration into Meltokio, and he'd spent the entire day before traveling. He had gone a day and a half without even thinking about food. He'd been fighting and exerting himself too, without any feelings of inadequacy. Perhaps he could go completely without eating? Theoretically that shouldn't be possible, yet he had no evidence to the contrary. Kratos was stumped. What was the Cruxis Crystal doing to his body structure? Xilia said she would look into it, but he wasn't sure when he'd be getting back to her- if at all. He wasn't supposed to exert himself until then. He snorted to himself at the irony of the situation, he'd done little else than work straight through both day and night.

Glancing down at his gloved left hand, Kratos couldn't feel any discomfort. Only residual scratches from his mountain-climbing incident at Mount Fooji bothered him, and those had scabbed over by now. The exsphere was working perfectly with his battle reflexes so far. He supposed whatever was going to happen would just have to at this point. He couldn't really do anything about it at the moment, and holding back wasn't an option.

Kratos leaned heavily against a tree and slid into a sitting position in the weedy reeds close to the water. He exhaled softly. No matter the exsphere, traveling this much in a week was definitely not healthy. He stretched his limbs a bit, wincing at the soreness in his shoulder. It was getting better, though that might take much more time. Kratos cracked his knuckles, and realized that a Sylvaranti was making his way over to his location. He was still somewhat in the center of the group, so they weren't worried about him running off. A tray of food in the soldier's hand made his purpose clear enough. The man must've been young, a little over twenty perhaps, and he was fairly kind in his offer of food. Kratos nearly accepted, but swiftly changed his mind.

"That's okay, I'm not hungry," Kratos shook his head. How would he eat without removing his helmet? He'd much rather take a risk with his strange food-problem than with the potential dilemma that might surface with recognition. If he could last a day and a half without any problems, a while longer couldn't hurt. Unfortunately a look of concern flashed over the man's face.

"You should eat; we'll travel for a couple more hours after this." The man nudged the tray at him again.

"No, it's fine." He shook his head again. Apparently the commander was listening, having set down a couple of yards to the right.

"You're not doing any good by starving yourself. There's no noble resistance in that." Kratos almost rolled his eyes. They thought he was resisting? Any further denying would seem even more suspicious, so he accepted the plate. It sat for a moment on his lap before the commander glanced in his direction.

"Just eat already, we've got to get moving soon!" Kratos twitched slightly. There was no way to avoid it. Grudgingly, he raised his hands to remove his helmet. He smoothly slipped off the metal encasement and set it beside him, hoping that no Sylvaranti saw the need to scrutinize him. He kept his head down and was about to begin eating when a soldier spoke out.

"He can't be more than sixteen!" An incredulous voice pointed out, and Kratos' head jerked up at the accusation. Too late.

"Since when could Tethe'allans become Knights that young?" Another questioned. Kratos saw all pairs of eyes glued on him, and he jumped to his own defense.

"I'm eighteen!" He lied defiantly. The commander caught sight of his face, though, and his eyes narrowed immediately.

"Damn!" He cursed, throwing his hands up in the air, "Dammit all! You're not even a Knight are you?" Now he was right in Kratos' face. Kratos didn't flinch, but filled his glare with as much venom as he could muster. It was obvious that the man recalled their last encounter.

"And you're not a Royal Courier, either." Kratos shot back, standing up from a sitting position. A smirk caught on the other's face.

"No, I'm not. Now, what the _hell _is going on here? Give me one reason not to kill you now!" Kratos cursed himself for being caught in this position. Dying didn't fit into his agenda. He had to come up with a believable story quick.

"I work with the Sybak Research Institute, and I know just as much about Tethe'allan battle tactics as any Knight from Meltokio would." Kratos stood rigidly.

"Is that so?" The commander eyed him doubtfully.

"I also know we're headed to Latheon Gorge, and the specifics of mana weapons recently developed for that region." Kratos was digging deep now. If the hostile expression of the man in front of him was anything to go by, it wasn't deep enough.

"We'll see about that." Searching steely eyes considered his own. Kratos was prepared to jump into action to defend himself, he still had the dagger in his boot, but if conflict could be avoided it would be best. A small dagger didn't have as much reach as a sword, and the number of assailants would already put him at a disadvantage. The dark-haired man's expression seemed satisfied for the moment, but he tugged Kratos arm and pulled him in front.

"Whatever it is you know, we'll find out at the Gorge. We've wasted enough time already." Kratos exhaled sharply. Safe for now. All of the soldiers hastily grabbed their half-unpacked equipment and followed suit. Kratos thought he'd gotten off scotch-free, until he heard a murmured command behind him.

"Bind his arms. If he's not a Knight, I don't know where he got that damn training. Someone his age shouldn't have been able to take out two of our soldiers in an ambush in the dark. I don't want to take any chances." Kratos stiffened slightly as he felt his arms being pulled behind him. This day just kept getting better. He supposed he was lucky that none knew he was Tethe'allan royalty, but really the odds just never fell in his favor. Perhaps some good might come of visiting the Gorge, though. Optimism wasn't really his thing, but if he wanted to stop the war completely, he'd have to see the worst of the battle.

He did his best work with a handicap anyway.

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**(A/N) Thanks for reading! As always feel free to point out typos/constructive criticism/etc. Update coming soon!**


	13. Chapter 13

**(A/N) Update, just as promised! I seriously love this chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Someday I will own ToS. Then I will delete all of these disclaimers and replace them with boastful gushings. Until then, don't sue me!**

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_**Chapter 13**_

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They sifted through the foliage like ghosts, quick and quiet- too fleeting to catch sight of and too sure-footed to crack branches. Kratos could now see the innate stealth that allowed the commander to pass for a ninja of Mizuho. Both he and his men had incredible prowess in the field of travel. Kratos' own training pulled him even with them- yet he'd never given it much thought how they managed to sneak _into_ Tethe'alla. He knew that Tethe'alla had a number of operatives in Sylvarant, but it would be much more difficult for them to ingratiate themselves into the Sylvaranti's decentralized military structure than it might be to infiltrate the highly centralized monarchy that was Tethe'alla. Either way, if the Tethe'allans wanted to hold their own in this war, they'd have to be increasingly wary of this type of subversion.

As Kratos followed, somewhat awkwardly due to the ropes around his wrists, something was stirring. He could feel it like a charge in the air- tense and crackling with energy. It felt like an enormous upwelling, not within him, but everywhere. It was almost as if it was always there, like an unseen force of nature. Perhaps he was simply growing conscious of it, but the stronger the feeling got, the harder it was for Kratos to focus. The world and the air seemed balanced on the tenuous precipice of chaos. It was like a thick volatility, so precarious that anything abrupt might spark it and set the air ablaze.

The fifteen-year-old stalled in his steps briefly as the building awareness became near overwhelming. Whatever it was, it was _everywhere_. Unless he had just become hyper-aware of ionized particles- which he seriously doubted- Kratos was at a loss for the name of the substance. What could be so invisibly abundant? Could it be that he was sensing _energy_? Though the idea was about as ludicrous as growing wings, Kratos was forced to give it some consideration.

He felt his left hand twitch. The Cruxis Crystal was slightly warmer than the surrounding skin, but nowhere near as blistering as it had burned the first time. Xilia may have been correct in her assumption that the evolution of the exsphere was a result of exposure to stress. From what he knew, the exsphere had the ability to impact his senses. However, adding a completely new sense was unexpected.

"We're here," a Sylvaranti muttered softly to Kratos, pulling his arms to keep him from breaking through the brush ahead. Kratos let himself be drawn to a stop, examining his surroundings with a new perspective. The energy writhed and spread throughout the thinning section of forest that the party occupied. Kratos felt highly condensed, hectic bundles of the substance around him, and upon further observation, found them to be the Sylvaranti captors. Each person was a container for a vast amount of unbridled energy.

Kratos knew now, what it felt like to sense mana.

He forced this new revelation to the back of his mind, as he realized that the commander of the Sylvaranti forces was peering through the leaves ahead at the clearing. The ground had been transitioning to a rocky and uneven slope steadily, but in the clearing ahead, it seemed that the forest could no longer make do with such boulder-like soil. The trees broke in a clean line, a sharp division between the relative safety of obscurity and the bare openness of the rock face.

"So, what exactly do you know about Tethe'allan tactics in this region?" The commander asked without breaking his gaze from what was sure to be enemy troop activity. Kratos thought a moment. Not dying would be in his best interest, and staying unnoticed went along with that. A battle should be avoided at all costs.

"Considering that we're coming from the Eastern side, the majority of the forces will be concentrated along the ravine and especially the pass. Behind that initial line, though, there should be fewer troops. Far and in between anyway." Kratos shrugged. Most likely, the area needed reinforcement on the Sylvaranti side. Last he heard, the Tethe'allans were making significant territorial gains. He wouldn't be able to avoid conflict if this group was merely attempting to sabotage their enemy from behind.

"Is that so?" The Sylvaranti turned to look at him. Kratos just nodded slightly. On any other occasion he would have come up with a snide or sarcastic reply that involved him not having any particular desire to get blasted in the crossfire, but at the moment he was distracted with the fluctuating mana in the area.

Something big was nearby. Shifting, maybe. In fact, Kratos thought he felt it like a wave might look on the horizon. A gargantuan amount of mana was rippling towards Latheon Gorge. Slowly, but steadily looming before them. The feeling set him on edge. The mass of energy was sort of scattered on the periphery of his senses, but nevertheless prickled with intensity. Swarms of what he believed to be people marched alongside the intimidating mana signatures. Whatever it was, it wasn't living. That narrowed down the culprit to a select few powerful weapons. They needed to get out of there before whatever new mana weapon the Tethe'allans developed turned the entire Gorge into a crater.

"Let's go, then." The commander waved his troops closer to the forest's edge. Inching nearer, Kratos got a better look at the rocky plateau that made up the area in front of the Tethe'allan side of the ravine. It was wide and uneven. The grayish rock itself was sharp-edged and raw, as if the forces of nature had yet to wear it down and soften the harsh corners. The light was also bleak and washed out, despite it being late afternoon coming up on evening. Several figures shifted in groups a mile away, across the span of the rocks. Tethe'allans.

It was time to plan his escape.

* * *

Yuan felt the rush of victory subsiding as he regrouped with Kenta. Kenta's group looked no worse for wear, with just a few cuts and bruises and few casualties. This was impossible. There was no way that so much territory could be gained with so few men. Both his and Kenta's troops had pressed and constricted until they reached the bridge from the east and west sides respectively. The pass lay perfectly over the ravine- barren and devoid of activity from either side. The Tethe'allans had retreated all the way to their own territory, leaving the bridge like a gauntlet thrown down. Yuan twitched at the challenge.

Yuan sighed to himself. It had to be some sort of trap, he wasn't stupid enough to play into it. Regardless of that, though, he could still be frustrated by the temptation. Sylvarant had been working to control this bridge for years, and it was right under his nose. He'd be a fool to touch it.

"What the hell is going on?" Kenta breathed heavily, eyes examining the ancient bridge before them. He stood tensely, hands wrapped tightly around a short sword that rested lightly on the ground. Yuan stepped to his subordinate's side.

"I'm not quite sure." They could see to the other side easily enough, but the Tethe'allans had higher ground past the bridge so it was impossible to judge just how many troops hid behind the rise of grey rock. Tethe'allan troops had fallen into ranks several hundred yards from their side of the bridge, a good three hundred of them to Sylvarant's hundred. For Latheon Gorge, though, these numbers were miniscule. Usually thousands resided in this location in order to maintain position.

The pass was about a quarter mile across, due to the wide and fast flowing river that cut into the Earth so many ages ago. Yuan took a few measured steps closer to the bridge, so he could properly peer into the abyss that was Latheon Gorge itself.

It was easily twice as deep as it was wide, and the water at the bottom glittered a deep blue and foamy white where the rapids crashed together. The deep trench was littered with smoother rock structures, but it still gave the impression of a violent death if one were to fall.

"What are we going to do?" Kenta asked, trepidation filling his voice with unease. Yuan spared another look at the Tethe'allan troops that were still at attention across the void.

"There's nothing to do, but hold our position until they play all their cards." Yuan narrowed his eyes at the enemy, wondering just what they might have up their sleeves.

* * *

Kratos did his best to lag at the back of the pack, which was surprisingly easy. Funnily enough, he still had Yuan's dagger concealed in his boot. He also slid next to the same Sylvaranti that had picked up his sword. He wasn't losing that again.

The group of stealthy Sylvaranti had followed the curvature of the forest as far as they could for concealment, but now seemed to be headed towards the cliff's edge that dropped out over the ravine. It was as if they were circling the pass without actually heading straight for it. With the information he had supplied, Kratos figured they were attempting to circumvent the worst of the Tethe'allan lines by taking the more treacherous route nearest to the abyss. Kratos wasn't sure how smart that move was. If they got caught it would be a great degree worse than between a rock and a hard place. They could be pinned with their backs to the deadly drop easily. The Tethe'allans weren't going to be as wary of Sylvaranti on this side of the pass, though.

It was risky. Kratos wasn't planning on being a part of it.

The uneven terrain had become beneficial to the party, as it blocked them from any discovering glances that the Tethe'allans might spare behind them. They traveled low to the ground, ducking when the rocks were not as masking as was preferable. Though Kratos admired their audacity, he had little to no clue on their intentions.

Sabotage was likely the only option, but what could nine Sylvaranti do to an army of hundreds- even with the advantage of surprise? They didn't appear to have any special equipment. Perhaps they were simply trying to return to Sylvarant- but that was not a plausible option considering where they were. Latheon Gorge was by far the most difficult way to cross the border.

As Kratos' foot caught in a crevice, he stumbled forward a bit. They were obscured easily by the surrounding rock, so he would escape here. Leaning naturally into a forward crouch from the stumble, Kratos was able to slip his hand into his left boot and retrieve Yuan's dagger. Still near the tail end of the group, Kratos found his stumble garnered no extra attention. He smirked to himself at the irony. Yuan's dagger had helped them escape from the Tethe'allans, and now the Sylvaranti. Maybe the dagger was neutral to the war as he was.

Kratos sawed at the ropes quickly, and they fell away in no time at all. Still none noticed as he kept his hands behind his back. This point was his opening gambit. They were at a cross-road, metaphorically speaking. The Tethe'allan line- though not fully reinforced- begun to their right side now, behind the largest of the rocky rises, and the Gorge opened up like a scar cut into the land on their left. Kratos had no doubt that a loud confrontation would result in discovery, and an unfortunate position. That was his essential stratagem. If he didn't escape now, they all would be captured- and if they didn't look any deeper than his clothing, he might promptly be released. Hopefully these Sylvaranti recognized that.

Kratos walked closer to the unsuspecting Sylvaranti that had _Typhon's _sword on his belt. He kept his head down, as if concentrating on his footing, and bumped the man lightly. His left arm darted out from behind his back like lightning and sliced the leather strap that fastened the sheath to the man's belt. At the same moment, his right hand came up and caught the precious weapon before it fell. The Sylvaranti failed to react properly in time, and Kratos had his sword drawn and pressed against his neck before he could do more than blink.

The commotion had made a sort of scuffling sound, and the Sylvaranti commander spun around to see the source of the incriminating noises. Kratos felt the corner of his mouth twitch up. So he knew any sound could be everyone's downfall. Perfect.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Kratos hissed in a whisper. The situation was amusing- it was the precise opposite of what happened in the Meltokio sewers. The Sylvaranti's gaze hardened, eyes flitting away briefly to examine his soldier. The remaining men had tensed around them, but no one dared to move. Kratos admired their camaraderie, but he needed to split with them.

"Fine. Well played, even." The Sylvaranti conceded with a sharp shake of his head, "Go. I don't want to see you again." His grey eyes matched Kratos' own intense glare. "Whoever the hell you are." The commander added under his breath. Kratos felt victory within reach. The Sylvaranti turned around and begun to walk away, his subordinates nervously following with only a few furtive glances behind. Kratos lowered the tip of his blade and nudged the other Sylvaranti forward. His shoulders slumped in unspoken relief, and he walked off as well.

He stood motionless with his sheath and dagger clasped in one hand, and blade in the other as he watched them recede along the cracked cliff-side. Kratos let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, and felt himself relax. His eyes found themselves examining the deep trench before him. The grey stones made steeply drawn, angular shapes where they hit the sun. For the most part, though, the ravine was painted in rich shadows. It was much deeper than wide, and almost gave the illusion that it led straight into the heart of the earth. Kratos had never been afraid of heights, but not wishing to stand near the edge here was more of a self-preservation instinct than anything else. It was oddly magnificent, in the harshly cutting and dangerous way that only nature could be.

Turning his head to look to the western side of the Gorge, Kratos could see a narrow pass. The bridge that everyone was hell-bent on fighting for. The structure itself was rather impressive, tresses and support beams ran underneath it as it arched like a gentle hill over the chasm. Kratos' eyes tried to pick out figures of soldiers on it, but his acute eyesight couldn't find any. Was the bridge unoccupied? That was impossible- yet it appeared not. His feet began to shift on their own, getting a closer look as he traveled along the edge of the trench to remove the obstructive rocks from view. Rounding the slight curvature, Kratos paused in his tracks for a second time.

Tethe'allan regulars stood in ranks on their side, apparently after a noteworthy withdrawal. Kratos' eyes followed the bridge to the other side, where a much smaller number of Sylvaranti stood in disarray. A teal head of hair stood out from the lackluster, grey scene. Yuan was here? There couldn't be many other turquoise-haired half-elves enlisted in the region. Kratos couldn't decide how he felt about that development. Both sides obviously stood at a stalemate.

The growing sensation of approaching power, though, would easily tip the scale in Tethe'alla's favor. It would be a massacre. Kratos quickened his pace to reach the bridge. He preferred this stalemate to any blood that was about to be spilled. In fact, he had just resolved to stop it. It was about time for a cease-fire.

* * *

Yuan felt a sudden pricking sensation. Being a half-elf, he could sense mana his whole life. He'd never felt anything like this, though. A massive wave of intense energy- refined mana- was coming. Mana weapons, probably a type of cannon, were on the way. It might be too late, now, to get an adequate distance away. He turned frantically to the accumulated troops.

"Fall back! Fall back now!" Instead of immediate and unquestioning following of his orders, Yuan was met with a hundred confused stares. Kenta was still facing the Tethe'allan troops across the way, and took several steps backwards.

"Holy crap!" His voice broke off half-way, and he turned to face the others. "Retreat!" Yuan spared a glance behind him. The massed troops were now even larger in number, soldiers pouring out between the crevices that made up the higher ground. Every three or four of them hoisted cumbersome looking mortars- the source of the daunting mana. Yuan figured they could easily fire the distance across and then some.

His Sylvaranti companions began a very disorganized 'run-for-your-freaking-life' recoil. The way the mountainous rocks were situated, though, made it rather unlikely that anyone would reach the cover of the ridge before it was too late.

Yuan felt the first blast before he heard it. It was like an explosion of pent up pressure, steadily drawn from the very environment it came from. It was as if the Tethe'allans were sucking the life from the ground and firing it across the void. The sound was a cacophony of loudness, staccato and grating against his elven hearing. Seconds later, the ball of mana struck Sylvaranti territory.

They were lucky that they had a head start, because the area that had been previously occupied by troops was obliterated. A shock wave traveled through the land almost like a small earthquake, and the boulders that made up the flat area before the pass were blasted into the air. The very ground was shattered and broken, leaving only a crater behind and debris littered around it. Yuan tore his gaze from the detritus. They were in over their heads. There was no way they could fight this kind of raw power. He'd be lucky to get his men out alive.

* * *

Kratos was just reaching the edge of the Tethe'allan lines when the first shot went off. The destruction that followed left him speechless. That kind of energy, and manner of delivery was simply horrifying. No one seemed to be hit, though, so he kept his focus on preventing anything else.

The air was sparking with mana, drawn out of the earth for use in the cannons. The mere quantity of mana necessary for one blast must be astronomical. It would kill the surrounding area. Mana deprivation was almost unheard of, due to how plentiful it was, yet it was the essence of life. Who knew what might happen when they used it up?

Think. He had to think about how to fix this. Or at least mitigate the damage done. What did he know about these weapons? Little to nothing- aside from the fact that they accumulated vast quantities of mana and then propelled them. Maybe he could cause one to self-destruct? The pending chain reaction might be enough to cripple the Tethe'allan arsenal. The problem was that the Tethe'allans would just return with more of the wicked mortars in order to take the stupid bridge. Kratos' eyes shot over to the bridge. The object of his loathing was rather empty and no one was really paying it any mind.

Kratos was behind the distracted Tethe'allan regulars, as several more mana spheres were launched at the Sylvaranti. If he could eliminate the bridge, then there would be no purpose in holding this location. Damn. This was almost suicide. Kratos absently noted that his hand was burning again with an even more intense heat than before. It was no matter, anyway.

He blended in easily with some of the regulars, and the lack of helmet didn't warrant too much attention given other helmetless soldiers presences. Following the curt and clean-cut actions of the newer troops that still marched out from behind him, Kratos noticed several new mortars were being wheeled in front of the others. The Sylvaranti troops on the other side were retreating at a quick pace, and it looked like most of them were out of range of the strange artillery.

The Tethe'allans were making a new line closer to the cliffs edge.

Kratos trailed with anticipation as he realized that they were setting up the machines as far out as possible. The bridge lay before him, and several cannons were placed near its opening. Three men worked each one, and he payed rapt attention as each did their jobs. God. Was he actually considering doing this? He must be crazy, he decided. The prospect of removing the bridge was cemented in his mind, now, as the only option. He could see the wreckage across the ravine, Sylvaranti had begun to fall with each deafening blast, and the terrain was in shambles. It was awful. He had to stop it.

He had unconsciously crouched next to the central cannon in the nearest line, prepping it to fire like he'd seen the others do. He made himself count slowly down before he acted. Premature action would be dealt with by the Tethe'allans harshly without any results. His right hand slipped into his boot to pull out Yuan's dagger. It was fitting, almost. When he thought the moment was right, he sprung up from his crouch and forced the dagger down the opening of the firing mechanism. As soon as it was firmly wedged in the back of the machine, he yanked his arm out and took as many steps away from the mortar as he could. In the split-second following he saw the action register on the other Tethe'allans' faces. The others working on the same cannon threw themselves back and called out. Kratos realized that he'd pushed himself out in the wrong direction too late. He was precariously close to the chasm's edge.

Then the world caught fire.

* * *

Yuan had called as many of his men as possible to follow him down the ravine's edge instead of a straight shot back from the bridge. The Tethe'allan lines didn't go too far to either side, and it was a shorter distance to run than to break for the ridge. His breath was heavy and labored. The air was crisp and dry, yet the sporadic explosions added flaming heat as they struck the earth. The dissipating mana burned like fire and the flying rocks that crashed down from the impact cut like so many shards of glass.

Yuan kept his eyes on the destructive weapons the Tethe'allans were working. He could see each and every shot course off and only hope it didn't take any lives when it hit. The Tethe'allans were shifting closer, hopefully it meant that his comrades were getting out of range. Yuan was distracted as he saw a flash of messy auburn hair. It couldn't be any other than Kratos, surely. Why was Kratos participating in such a horrid obliteration? It was the precise thing he despised.

Damn. Yuan stopped in his fleeing, facing the bridge again. His men hurried on, but he needed to see this. The figure he suspected was Kratos darted in front of one of the cannons, then-

The explosion was breathtaking- an awful self-destruction that lit the concentrated mana in the air aflame. Yuan kept his eyes glued on Kratos' slight form as the force of the blast hoisted him in to the air, and blew him backwards. The boy was falling down into the deepest depths of Symphonia. Subsequent explosions lit like wildfire across the Tethe'allan lines, catching each cannon and causing each to splinter into a million pieces. The Tethe'allans seemed to organize quickly and fall back before all of them were engulfed by the fiery demolition.

His attention was drawn to a crumbling structure. The bridge. The massive pathway caved in on the Tethe'allan side and could no longer support itself. It rolled in pieces down into the ravine. Chunks fell as it collapsed in on itself. It looked flimsy, now. A dazed form of shock crossed Yuan's face. His breathing was caught, and his hands clenched as he realized what Kratos had done. Kratos had just organized a cease-fire single-handedly.

Yuan scrambled to the edge of the cliff, no longer caring about the dangerous proximity. His eyes scoured the bottom of the pit, spotting only large chunks of rock and bridge amongst the fast-moving water. Yuan couldn't find his voice, nor would he have been capable of saying anything if he had. Kratos was nowhere in sight. Yuan had seen him fall.

The damn selfless idiot had just traded his life for a hundred.

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**(A/N) So I'm pretty sure that was my best chapter yet... it was also the longest! Promise to update soon! Please Review if you liked it, or even if you didnt XD! Thanx for reading!**


	14. Chapter 14

**(A/N) Hey! Sorry 'bout the slightly longer wait... Anyway here it is! Please R&R! XD**

**Disclaimer: Nope. I'd put something witty here, but I've got nothing (not even ToS, so don't sue!)**

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_**Chapter 14**_

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Kratos had the immediate sensation of deafness and- _falling_.

That wasn't part of the plan. Kratos spun himself around in midair, trying to get his bearings. His stomach felt like it had been left somewhere up above. He was picking up speed now, and he didn't know how to break his fall either. The bottom of the Gorge was approaching too fast. At least he'd had the satisfaction of seeing all those wretched weapons blowing up. He'd accomplished something in his life, then. Every breath he exhaled was snatched away by the winds and left far above.

Despite the imminence of his death, Kratos experienced the entire ordeal with a strange clarity. He wasn't really afraid of dying. He just didn't want to stop _living_. Even in this pit, the world was beautiful. The rapids of white water at the bottom neared and glittered like jewels; the coarseness of the stone and texture of the shadows-

It was all so real, so vivid.

Kratos felt more like himself than he ever had. Every limb in his body was relaxed, every muscle pumped full of adrenaline. Every nerve was sending too much feedback for his mind to process. There was just so _much_- so much of everything. He couldn't die and miss it all.

He realized that his hand was searing again, and this time he glanced down at his left hand glove. The material, though thick, could not suppress the glow of the stone from shining through. He speculated that it was probably hurting, but he was too pumped full of adrenaline to realize. This one moment felt both eternal and ephemeral- the ground was speeding towards him so quickly, yet it felt as if he had all the time in the world.

Kratos didn't dare shut his eyes against the wind- he wanted to see it all for as long as he could. Inhaling sharply, Kratos spread his arms to catch the wind. There was no way he'd be able to slow his descent enough for survival, even if he were to strike the water dead on- the rocks and surface tension would feel like a brick wall. If he fell like this, useless as it might be, it was almost as if he was flying.

The heat in his hand was building, spreading throughout his entire being. The heat left his skin tingling, and prickling near his back. He was so close now, that the river that looked like a slender snake from above stretched wide and menacing below him, and the rocks that seemed like pebbles were smooth gray boulders as big as buildings. Kratos braced himself for the collision. Regrettably he couldn't come up with any noble final thoughts.

But the ensuing impact never came.

Maybe a hundred yards from becoming a pancake, something inside him imploded. It wasn't like he broke, but rather that some thin shell within him split, allowing tendrils of energy to escape. The resulting resistance yanked him back hard by the spine. His left shoulder screamed from its previous injury, but Kratos was too disoriented to react. He was somehow gliding across the river instead of dropping like a stone. _What the hell is happening?_ Kratos' brain switched back into gear, and he twisted his neck around to see what had attached itself to his back.

Kratos blinked.

Cerulean wisps of- of- _wings?_ had sprouted between his shoulder blades. They glowed mutely like tresses of colored light, arched to catch the air. The appendages cushioned his fall like a parachute might, and though he was still falling swiftly, Kratos knew he would live. Turning back to his now forward motion, Kratos saw the river flying beneath his feet, blurring into dark strips of glossy color.

He'd crossed over to the other side of the trench, and a slender piece of land bordered the water before the vertical wall of the Gorge sliced upward. His momentum was petering out, and his toes were brushing the ground now. He sunk just a bit lower in the air, and started running as soon as his boots hit rock so as not to fall on his face. Coming to an abrupt halt, Kratos stood still for a moment.

He wrenched his head around again to reexamine the objects he was tentatively classifying as _wings_. The peculiar strands of light flapped once and then dissolved into the air, leaving nothing in their wake other than a very unpancake-like Kratos at the bottom of a very deep pit.

Kratos sunk to the ground, heavily leaning against a fairly large boulder to steady himself. Peering back up at the sky, he could see the crumbling remains of the bridge and thick clouds of smoke. Sighing in satisfaction, he watched the remaining debris fall and splash down. There was no Latheon Gorge pass any longer. He yanked off his left hand glove to better examine the exsphere.

The deep crimson was tinted darker and felt more ominous. The mana swirled in rich bands inside it, Kratos realized. It was _his_ mana. Perhaps the exsphere simply infused his mana with a powerful catalyst, or something of the sort. Either way, the Cruxis Crystal had to be the source of the burst of mana that created those wings. He felt somewhat weaker than normal, and he could only conclude that the wings drew from his own mana supplies. It would be a bad idea to try summoning them again, if he even could.

He slipped his gauntlet back over the jewel. For the immediate future, that left him with few options. He could either swim across to the Tethe'allan side and risk injury or drowning in the rapids, or he could climb up on the Sylvaranti side where he was now. Either way he'd have to scale the steep walls, an activity he was not looking forward to in the slightest.

Kratos hoisted himself up off of the ground. He might as well get the worst of it over with. The smartest decision would be to climb up into Sylvarant, though his next step would be a more difficult choice to make. Less people would be able to recognize him in the foreign country, but it would be hard to explain his sudden appearance if he were to be caught in military territory, which would be likely given the circumstances. He'd come up with something.

Kratos craned his neck up to find his destination. It would be a while before he'd reach the top, but the angular crevices supplied ample hand and foot holds for climbing. He rolled his left shoulder and grimaced at the discomfort. It would have to do.

And he began the arduous journey back to the land of the living.

* * *

Yuan exhaled in a short sigh, forlornly gazing at the depths of Latheon Gorge. Kratos deserved that much. Yuan fleetingly wondered if he hadn't turned around, if Kratos would be remembered at all for such a heavy deed. The men behind him were regrouping among the craters, oblivious to his mourning.

Cheers rang out, soldiers embracing and ecstatic in their survival. Yuan smiled sadly. A few questions had surfaced about the Tethe'allans' weaponry problems, but most had written it off as a serendipitous fluke. Unfortunately, Yuan knew without that kind of technology, Sylvarant would be toast in the war. This set-back did nothing to even the playing field. Tethe'allans had breached the barrier that had not allowed any previous mana weapons to draw from the environment, thus expanding their horizons to limitless destruction. Yuan felt a hard lump in his throat. He couldn't judge them for it.

Sylvarant would've done the same, Tethe'alla just got there first.

Yuan let his head fall into his hands, still seated near the edge of the precipice. When had they become so hell-bent on destroying each other? What issue were they trying to resolve? Symphonia just couldn't contain two forces that refused to coexist. It took a teenager's death for him to see that the war wasn't going to end until one was entirely obliterated, or the world gave under the stress. Kratos had seen it, and now Yuan could, too.

"Why the long face?" Kenta comfortably fell into a crouch beside him. Yuan settled for a half-truth, he wasn't prepared to answer all the questions that came along with complete veracity.

"Just wondering how we're going to get through this." Yuan felt a strong breeze ripple through his cloak and tug with invisible fingers at his hair. All of a sudden, he felt very tired. The actions that needed to be taken could not be ignored, though, and he dragged himself up. He still couldn't tear his gaze from the darkened pit that opened up like the maw of a giant beast. It was as if he was anchored in this spot, unable to move without some sort of closure. Maybe closure wasn't really the word for it. He'd barely known Kratos, only for several weeks. Their encounters were brief, and not even on friendly terms. Somehow he still felt camaraderie with the boy. He didn't need much longer to decide what kind of person he was.

"We should drop back to camp, just because the Tethe'allans left doesn't mean they won't come back with more of those death machines." Yuan looked up to see Kenta's sharp nod. Good. He could count on Kenta to keep everyone together, which meant he could be alone with his thoughts for a moment.

"Yes, sir!" Kenta dropped back and called out loudly to the others, whereas Yuan remained thoughtfully stationary. Slowly, but steadily, all of the Sylvaranti troops trickled away between the rocks. Yuan just needed to check one last thing away from all of the distracting presences.

Each bright blaze of mana began to fade with distance, and Yuan closed his eyes and extended his senses across the pit. If nothing surfaced, he'd be forced to accept Kratos' death. But if there was just a chance that he survived then-

Yuan jumped when he felt it. Without any nearby fluctuations, a presence was like a glowing flare on the horizon. Unmistakably powerful. The mana even appeared slightly depleted, but the strength of it was the likes of which Yuan had never seen. It couldn't be Kratos- Yuan had felt Kratos' mana before. This was something no human could come close to matching. Yuan's eyes shot open and his feet trailed along the edge of the Gorge as he shot to the left. He was nearing the stifling presence, the mana shone as clearly as a beacon. He didn't even have to concentrate to pinpoint its location now.

Yuan realized it was below him. A kernel of hope settled in his chest, along with a considerable amount of unease. If this was an enemy, he wouldn't be much of a challenge alone. The unknown being must be scaling the cliff-side at a steady pace, because the upward draft of energy was palpable.

Yuan quickly summoned his butterfly blade just in case.

* * *

Kratos chipped away at the distance a bit at a time. His arms were aching and sweat was making his hands slippery and unsure. Nevertheless, his progress was considerable. Kratos hefted a gasp as he found a sound landing to take a break. His shoulder was his biggest problem, and he was beginning to regret ever traveling to those blasted Fooji Mountains in the first place. He dried his palms on his tunic. He had decided to ditch the Tethe'allan armor at the bottom. It was a little cumbersome and incriminating for his destination.

Kratos ran his hands through his hair, a prickling feeling tickled at the back of his skull. A deep inhale later, Kratos coined the feeling as a single being not too far above him. It appeared as if someone was waiting for him at the surface. He could only hope it wasn't an attack, though a small part of him considered it might be Yuan, unlikely as it was. Yuan didn't even know he was here. Kratos supposed he would know when he got there. There wasn't much he could do until then.

He could see the top, the very last stone he needed to pass some hundred meters above. The majority of the vertical distance he covered in the tail end of the afternoon. As evening was cooling the cliff, Kratos had quickened his pace. He could only climb as long as the light lasted- and he doubted that he could wait a night clinging to the cliff face while facing yet another deadly fall, wings considered.

Slipping his fingers into a rigid crevice, Kratos pulled himself up a couple of feet and wedged his toes into a crack that wound upward like a strange geometric impression of a snake.

Balancing forward, the climb began anew with a figure's presence looming above him.

* * *

Yuan held his breath as he could hear the toiling of the person climbing up the face of the trench. Labored breathing and the scrabbling of hand and foot on rock. He exhaled stridently as a head of red hair peered over the ledge. Kratos heaved himself over the steep corner and rolled onto his back.

"Hey," he rasped out breathlessly. Yuan's face split into a grin.

"Quite the climb, huh?" He kept his voice even despite the fact he was relieved to the point of giddiness.

"Oh, that?" Kratos got up on his elbows so he could face Yuan properly, "that was nothing. I've seen worse." He played it off, though his heavy breathing betrayed his voice.

"Sure," Yuan helped the Tethe'allan to his feet and ruffled his hair, much to Kratos chagrin.

"What was that for?" Kratos wore an affronted expression, though his burnet eyes still sparked with friendliness.

"I thought you were dead." Yuan didn't even question how Kratos could've lived through a fall of that magnitude. The jovial mood quieted quickly.

"Oh." Kratos muttered, shifting his gaze. He didn't think Yuan had seen what he did. That made explanations infinitely more tedious. He wasn't even sure how to approach asking the favor he needed. The silence was odd, but Yuan was again struck with how much raw energy Kratos seemed to be full of. The power roiled like a contained sea within the small figure in front of him. The strangest thing was that Kratos was looking at him with the same curious examination that he felt he was giving him.

Kratos was familiarizing himself with Yuan's mana signature. It was different- sharper and more attuned than that of a human. It was as if Yuan was capable of directing his own mana whereas humans had no means to do so. Half-elves had a different kind of order to their mana, and it was intriguing. Kratos wondered if his was like that.

"So what now?" Yuan adjusted his cape. Kratos shifted from foot to foot a bit awkwardly.

"Aah, well- we _are_ in Sylvarant." He unconsciously glanced across the void to the land of Tethe'alla, "I should probably find a way back." The sentence was hanging as if he was unsure that was exactly what he wanted to do. Yuan knew it was somewhat dangerous for Kratos to be here, but at least no one really knew him. The boy turned and began to walk along Latheon Gorge, clearly with a destination in mind. Yuan blinked. That was _it_?

"Wait." Kratos stopped and spun around, with the gall to have a bit of irritation gracing his features, "You're leaving?" Kratos arched an eyebrow as if to say, 'Why, yes, I think I said that'. Yuan bristled. He just danced with death, practically giving Yuan a heart attack, and then played it off like nothing? Unacceptable. Yuan marched up to him and tugged him by the arm in the direction of Sylvaranti camp.

"That's ridiculous. You need rest. C'mon, we'll come up with something." Yuan expected some resistance, but the kid must've been more tired than he let on, because he simply huffed and trailed along side him.

Camp was a bit of a ways off, but it was mostly a straight shot across the jagged rocks. Yuan was burning with curiosity he could barely contain. Kratos trudged half-heartedly in his infuriating silence. Yuan recognized that there was something different about the boy. He seemed- Yuan would say darker, but that didn't quite fit- almost withdrawn. He was changed. He was quieter, if possible; the corners of his mouth turned down in a frown as if he was contemplating something grave. Yuan wasn't sure what to say, but he couldn't let the matter rest.

"How did you even end up here?" Yuan twitched uncomfortably, "I thought you were going to stay in Sybak." Kratos scowl deepened and Yuan could practically see the walls close him off.

"Something came up; I had to make a trip to Meltokio. Things got a bit out of hand and I got stuck with some Sylvaranti saboteurs coming here." Yuan's eyes widened. _Sylvaranti_? Kratos smirked, though any actual humor in his eyes was missing.

"I was disguised as a Tethe'allan Knight." He added, shrugging as if it was boring. Yuan was about to chastise him for his elusiveness when he remembered why they had Sylvaranti stationed in Meltokio. The King's funeral. Yuan was silent.

"Then the canons from Hell arrived and you know the rest." Kratos concluded, obviously leaving out all of the important parts. Yuan let it slide.

"Those weapons are going to turn the tide of the War." Yuan admitted a bit sullenly. "They could have easily been the end of us." Something about that made Kratos angry.

"How could you lead your men into that? You're a half-elf. Shouldn't you be able to _feel_ that kind of mana?" Really he was just frustrated at being stuck on the Sylvaranti side, but it felt nice to blame it on Yuan temporarily. "You're so irresponsible." Kratos jabbed irately.

"I didn't feel it until they were right on top of us." Yuan admitted a bit guiltily. Kratos broke from his tirade for a moment.

"Really? That close?" A thoughtful look took over his previously angry expression.

"I'm a half-elf, not a superhero." Yuan muttered darkly. Kratos seemed to have let that subject slip though. Yuan dropped it too, it really was such a relief that the kid hadn't died. He didn't realize how much he dreaded it until he saw him falling. Just thinking about it made Yuan's stomach churn. Suddenly, Yuan felt like he needed reassurance.

Yuan slapped him on the back companionably, unknowingly jostling Kratos' jarred shoulder. Kratos winced a bit, immediately regretting the involuntary action. Maybe Yuan wouldn't notice. Unfortunately he did. Casual manner aside, he sized the red-head up.

"Hey, are you injured?" Kratos averted his gaze.

"Of course not." The Tethe'allan scoffed, though not very convincingly. Yuan prodded his shoulder again, and Kratos twitched.

"You're acting injured." Yuan decided. "What'd you do? It wasn't the fall, was it?" Kratos didn't respond. His silence was supposed to be intimidating. Or perhaps it was intended to deter the half-elf from poking him, but either way it did not serve its purpose. Yuan tapped him yet again, this time seriously expecting an answer. Kratos mumbled something incoherently, causing the soldier to raise his eyebrows.

"What was that?" Kratos clearly wasn't proud of the event.

"I _said_ 'mountain-climbing'." an aggravated Kratos edged in. Yuan chuckled at the indignant look on his face.

"So you go mountain-climbing, parade around as a Tethe'allan Knight, get captured, and then have the gall to call _me _irresponsible?" He seemed to be enjoying the prince's plight a tad more than was healthy. "Why yes, you're the picture of responsibility!" He was half-laughing now. Kratos scowled.

"Shut up." The Sylvaranti broke into fits of uncontrolled mirth as the boy turned and started walking away.

"C'mon, don't be so touchy," Yuan trailed after him, only mildly unsettled when Kratos gave him a chilling glare that would've killed any lesser man. Yuan raised his arms in a placating gesture. "Can't I be concerned after witnessing you fall to your death?" Kratos scoffed when he averted his gaze.

"Concerned? _You_?" The very real laugh that followed hurt Yuan's sense of character. It was his turn to frown.

"Why can't I be -er, worried?" That word didn't sound like him, and he wanted to take it back right away. At that, Kratos trained a curious set of wine colored eyes on him, eyebrows raised. Yuan hated the feeling of being evaluated.

"Because we're not on the same side." He stated simply, "-and it doesn't suit you." He added, removing the weight of his stare and turning it to the landscape rather uncomfortably.

"That thing you did-" Yuan began awkwardly, "it looked like we were on the same side." Kratos exhaled sharply.

"I would've done the same thing if it were a bunch of Sylvaranti annihilating Tethe'allans." He sounded irritated, and even a bit tired. His face held that same determination that was present when he'd stood up for Yuan at the Tethe'allan camp. Realization flashed in Yuan's eyes. Kratos was irritated because he didn't seem to get it, and he'd already explained it. But Yuan did understand.

"I know that." Yuan struggled for words, "It was really-" he paused, "selfless of you." He made eye contact with the boy. "You saved my men, everyone, really. Thanks." Kratos wore a half-smile at the gratitude before turning to walk.

"Oh, and Kratos?" The boy turned back to look at him, the exhaustion finally starting to show.

"Yea, Yuan?"

"Don't you ever pull that altruistic crap again." Kratos' smirk came back in full force despite the fatigue.

"I wasn't planning on it."

And they continued walking as night began to overtake them.

* * *

**(A/N) Thanx for reading! Yessss... Finally they are reunited! Review? ;)**


	15. Chapter 15

**(A/N) Hope you guys are pleased- two chapters in one week! I'm on a roll now! Anyways, please read and review! xD**

**Disclaimer: Maybe if I bother NAMCO enough they'll give me ToS, but they have yet to, so for now I don't own!**

* * *

**Chapter 15**

* * *

Kratos and Yuan lazily made their way back to Yuan's regiment. The thoughtful silence was now welcome, even peaceful. Kratos briefly glanced up at Yuan's ponderous expression. It was clear he was working on an explanation for Kratos' sudden appearance to tell the others. Just when Kratos thought he was about to say something brilliant and thought-provoking, Yuan opened his mouth.

"How does 'Raiden' sound?" Yuan's teal eyes met Kratos', as if he was experiencing serious mental turmoil over the matter.

"Come again?" Kratos' eyebrows crept together in mild confusion.

"As a name." Yuan clarified, "I think it's fitting for you." Kratos got defensive.

"Why do you get to pick my fake name? What's wrong with the old one?" Kratos crossed his arms.

"Everyone knows that you can't go around reusing aliases! Eventually this 'Daisuke' person is going to be wanted too, and _then_ you'll have a problem." Yuan gestured emphatically.

"Hn. Point taken. But _Raiden_?" Yuan arched an eyebrow.

"So, what's wrong with it?"

"I'm not going for 'memorable' here. It's too unique a name." As an afterthought he gave Yuan a quizzical look, "Don't tell me that's what you've been mulling over this whole time." Yuan scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Well, not _exactly_. How do you feel about partial truths?" Yuan didn't have much to work with.

"I'm familiar enough with them." Kratos bit back a little harsher than intended. They had just passed a ragged slope and now the torch-lit camp was in full view, a few stray soldiers filtering in the western gate.

"Then just follow my lead!" Yuan countered cheerfully, quickening his pace to pull ahead of Kratos.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Kratos hadn't been watching the half-elf, and upon seeing him much further ahead he broke into a run. "Yuan! Hey!" The moment he needed to catch up with him, though, was at the point where both of them met the security guards at the perimeter. Yuan had timed it perfectly and now Kratos cursed that he couldn't communicate _his_ plan with the young commander. Really, it all depended on what Yuan was willing to tell the rest of the Sylvaranti army, and Kratos fumed at the idea. Yuan waved off the guards unceremoniously, and Kratos scowled at him.

"I hate you." Unfortunately for him, that only made Yuan's grin widen.

"No you don't"

* * *

Xilia shuffled her papers anxiously. It had been four days. Five if you counted today. She had no idea where Daisuke had gone, and even _more_ importantly: her experimental exsphere. Now the brunt of her research was put on hold until she could track the boy down. He had _seemed_ nice enough. She didn't think he'd just walk out. So that only left a few options. Her analytical brain didn't like any of the remaining possibilities.

One: He could be incapacitated and prevented from returning due to the effects of her research.

Okay. That one was bad, she had to admit. She felt a little guilty. Though she had isolated some of the causes of his abnormal lack of hunger, she couldn't really be sure her solutions would work without Daisuke there.

Two: He may have attended the King's funeral and was running behind.

Travel was a fickle thing, and she wouldn't blame him if he were late due to mourning of any kind.

And three: He was held up by other unforeseen circumstances and would be back as soon as he could.

That was a vague excuse for an idea, and Xilia's biggest problem was that she really just couldn't predict anything without data. Lovely data. Information put everything in rows, classified it into columns and neatly drawn categories. She may not be a neat person, but she certainly had an organized mind. Without the omnipotent data, she was blind.

It would be best for her to let Daisuke resolve it. Tethe'alla was too big for her to search for him herself. Putting that aside, she had a new project courtesy of nobility from the island of Kharlan. They were sending a researcher over soon to discuss the specifics. She should devote her full attention to that; there was no use in worrying about something she was unable to change. From what she understood, this project was of the utmost importance and was supposed to take precedence over the Cruxis Crystal project anyway. She rubbed her index finger in circles by her temple. A headache was definitely coming on.

However, she was stirred from her musings as a petite young woman softly cleared her throat. Xilia nearly jumped in her seat- the woman's steps were so quiet that they appeared to have never even touched the floor. Looking up and adjusting her spectacles, Xilia's gaze met sharp green eyes rimmed with tendrils of a peculiar sea-foam-colored hair. _A half-elf?_ Her brain immediately processed the lady in front of her. Long billowy tresses of hair hung to her back, and she wore a rather basic traveler's cloak. Xilia concluded that she must have come a long way. Just as sudden as the half-elf's appearance, though, Xilia was met with a shock of blonde hair and crisp blue eyes peering from behind the woman's legs. The child couldn't be more than six or seven. Xilia glanced between the two, befuddled a bit at their entrance. She was saved from breaking the ice when the woman cheerfully extended her hand, however, she did not expect what happened next.

"You must be Xilia! I'm Martel DeNitro, and this is my brother, Mithos. I've been told that we'll be working together."

* * *

Kratos frowned silently at Yuan's side as he was forced to sit through the half-elf's idea of an explanation. Whether or not the Sylvaranti would take the tale with a grain of salt or not was entirely based upon its believability- something Kratos wasn't sure Yuan could endow it with. At the moment they had an audience with just Yuan's regiment, some forty or so men. The torchlight cast dancing shadows across their faces and hair, accentuating and deepening their expressions to the point of caricature.

"This is Raiden," Kratos suppressed the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, "and before anyone says anything- yes, he is Tethe'allan." Kratos' eyes widened and he felt a sharp mixture of betrayal and regret as a grumble of unrest spread among the troops. His hand migrated to his hilt nervously and he took a short step back. Strangely enough, Yuan shifted to stand between him and the Sylvaranti soldiers. Hands raised calmingly, Yuan was able to quiet the murmurs.

"Hold up." he clearly had everyone's attention, and Kratos' eyes narrowed. "He's also the reason every single one of you are still alive." Kratos grit his teeth. Whatever happened to _half-truths_? He couldn't explain any of this if asked. Yuan got his desired effect as a sort of awed silence spread.

"How?" One of the men near the front asked, short and stocky in build. Yuan looked at Kratos expectantly. _Now I see where this is going_, Kratos inwardly groaned. Yuan wanted some answers of his own, and putting Kratos on the spot was just a bonus. Perhaps he just fancied making him uncomfortable. Manipulative bastard. _Well two can play at that game_.

"I wedged a spare dagger in the firing mechanism of one of the mortars, causing an energy build up until the pressure triggered self-destruction." Kratos dryly stated, gauging Yuan's reaction. Kratos was pleased to note that Yuan's left eye twitched at 'dagger'. Nevertheless, he had gotten his answer.

"Why would he do that? He's Tethe'allan." A quieter voice queried. Kratos' gaze found the face of the man that had asked. Bright blue eyes and brown hair didn't combine to make an intimidating effect. In fact, curiosity tinged with gratitude was all Kratos was met with. Kratos opened his mouth, expecting to have to answer yet again, but was saved from the trouble when Yuan cut in.

"Would you have allowed that massacre to take place, Kenta? Humanitarianism is not dead. I highly doubt all Tethe'allans want us exterminated." A few nods went around the crowd of men, and Kratos felt the tension in his shoulders relax.

"Anyway, he seeks refuge from Tethe'alla, where he is no longer welcome. And given the debt we all owe him, I have accepted." Kratos was pleasantly surprised. Perhaps the truth _was_ somewhat useful in this case. Regardless, Kratos probably would've come up with something a bit more farfetched than Yuan's version; he was okay with simplicity. None of the Sylvaranti looked as if they desired to kill him, so it was a win. Tentatively.

The crowd began to disperse, and Kratos was only afforded several intrigued glances as soldiers returned to small barracks and tents for the night. Exhaling slightly when everyone was out of earshot, Kratos turned to Yuan.

"You blew up _my_ dagger?" Yuan fumed before Kratos could get a word off. He stood to his full height so that he could look down on the Tethe'allan.

"I thought we were going to use _partial_ truths." Kratos hissed back, not in the least troubled by Yuan's glare. Fluidly shifting moods, Yuan smirked haughtily.

"Honesty is the best policy, you know." He mock-scolded.

"Not in a camp full of people who would love to see you dead." Kratos quickly retorted.

"Hm. Fair enough," Yuan conceded, starting to make his way to his own temporary sleeping quarters. Since those from Triet were not permanently stationed in the region, they set up the tents inside the trenches and other defenses that surrounded the outpost. Kratos was unsure of their destination, but followed nevertheless, with only a short falter in his steps to betray his hesitation.

"My tent's plenty big enough. You can bunk with me." Yuan clarified as he navigated the darkened pathways. "Until we get you situated, that is." Kratos stopped in his tracks.

"_Situated_? Yuan, I'm not staying." He thought he'd made that very clear when they happened to run into each other about an hour or so ago. Yuan had the audacity to look adamant.

"There's no reason for you not to." Yuan noted that Kratos' eyes looked near crimson in the dim red light. They started walking again.

"I should return to Sybak as soon as possible." was the monotonous reply. From the few encounters Yuan had with Kratos, he knew that the kid used a dry, emotionless shield whenever he was hiding something.

"And why is that?" Yuan prodded. It really wasn't fair of him to ask so many questions, but his suspicious nature and curiosity combined got the better of him. Kratos was very private, quiet, and strictly not talkative. Anytime Yuan could get him going was sure to reveal something interesting. It was doubly interesting when Kratos didn't want him to know.

"It's none of your concern." Kratos retreated back on to familiar territory. Yuan was a bit disappointed.

"Yea well, we're here." They found themselves in front of a navy tent, slightly larger than the others and heading the first row of Sylvaranti dwellings. Yuan lifted the strip of cloth that served as the entrance for Kratos to cross the threshold first. Kratos did so, and shook some of his hair from his eyes to better view the inside.

The area was spacious as far as tents went, ample room for the few belongings in the corner and plush fabric covering the tarp. The customary stake ran through the center, but other than that it seemed homely in comparison to other tents. It may have had something to do with the warm glow that splayed from the hanging lantern in the center, but the contrast with the faintly torch-lit night outside was stark.

For lack of a better option- and furniture for that matter- Kratos sat himself down on the right in a cross-legged position. It was rather strange to be intruding upon Yuan's living space and it felt too personal for Kratos' usual tastes. He was grateful, but dependence was not something he dealt with well. And being a burden was never something he associated with himself, either. He felt like he had crossed some sort of line leaving his comfort zone. It was peculiar.

Yuan lounged in himself and plopped down on the blanket across from Kratos, looking at him expectantly. Instead of answering him, however, Kratos reclined to lie down. Eyes fixed on the draped ceiling, he pointedly ignored the half-elf's stare. He was tired, and it would be an easy feat to simply drift off into sleep. But Yuan was still staring at him.

"What?" he finally asked in exasperation.

"This is weird." Yuan noted. "Seeing you here, I mean. Our lives are pretty screwed up." Yuan mimicked Kratos' position on the other side of the tent, folding his arms behind his head.

"Hn." Kratos agreed half-heartedly. Yuan might've said something more, but Kratos had already slipped into a blissfully deep sleep and was too far gone to hear him.

* * *

Martel was delighted that she was fitting in so well. Xilia, the other researcher, was a little put off a first, but she seemed nice enough after they warmed up to her. The study would be difficult and complex, so the better they got along, the easier it would be to complete. Most of the scientists she encountered had the usual half-elf phobias, which impeded her work ethic considerably. Xilia's only signs of discomfort were multiple displays of shyness. She could get over that.

Mithos and Martel had traveled quite a ways to get to Sybak, and Martel and no intention of wasting the opportunity.

The isle of Kharlan was immense as far as islands went; some even went as far as to classify it as a continent. The Great Yggdrasil, or the Tree of Mana, resided at its center. Protected by a generous amount of the Ymir forest in the surrounding areas, the center was the most secluded of the region. The coastal cities were few and far apart, and as such didn't have much to do with each other. Mizuho lay to the east, secretive and isolated, whereas the elves of Heimdall constructed their village to the south. The elves didn't want much to do with anyone, so communications with them were scarce. Martel and Mithos lived in a small research outpost near the Tree of Mana. Their father, a human, had been studying the properties of the tree for his entire life, and Martel had taken a liking to the mystery of it as well. In his footsteps, she was working on developing her own research. Intriguing as it was, no real investigation had been done into mana other that merging it with weapons.

She had done her utmost to convince the few of noble blood in her hometown village of Yggdrasil- named so because of its proximity to the Great Tree itself- to back her project. She could be really nice when she needed to, and her powers of persuasion were unrivaled.

Sybak had all of the equipment she needed to formulate maps of the worldly mana flow. If she was right, there were concentrated bubbles of mana in specific locations. She had yet to know if these places held any true importance, but from what she had put together, there were several in Tethe'alla. In her mind, there was a reason for everything. She was itching to find out the _why_. Unfortunately, between her and her father's busy schedule, she was forced to take Mithos with her.

She was quite fond of her younger brother, but he would be very bored over the next few days. A six-year-old could only do so much when it came to high level algorithms and magitechnology. Good for her that Mithos loved to travel.

She sighed contentedly as she seated herself at one of Xilia's computer stations, happily fingering one of the intricate devices that analyzed a person's mana signature. Xilia seemed very into her work, and told her to get settled, but upon glancing over to Martel's choice of seating, she got up.

"Oh, you don't want to work here. This is all for a completely unrelated project that's been put on the back-burner."

"Ah." Martel nodded and switched seats to an empty station, though the other material had looked fascinating. Xilia sat across from her and pushed up her glasses eagerly.

"Okay, so where do we start?"

* * *

Kratos awoke suddenly despite the lateness of the hour. He supposed it was early by now, but it was still dark. Tendrils of guilt coiled in his chest from the nightmare, though he couldn't precisely remember what had happened. As his common sense returned to him, it wasn't hard for him to guess what his subconscious had dredged up. Gratefully, the vibrancy of the dream began to fade as reality reasserted itself. A cold icy feeling had settled in his lungs, and he sat up to survey his surroundings. He remained in Yuan's tent, and he could hear the even breathing of the half-elf somewhere to his right. It was all very steady and calming, yet his heart rate was elevated and his breathing was faster than it should have been.

After slowing his breathing considerably and shaking off the night terror, Kratos settled back onto the blanketed floor to shut his eyes again. The dull buzz of a breeze wafting across the tops of tents was the only sound in the camp. Oddly enough, he wasn't tired. It was remarkable what a few hours of sleep could do, but really he hadn't slept soundly for a couple of days. He should easily be able to sleep through a night and then some. He felt completely awake. The dreariness of sleep didn't cling to his muscles in the slightest, as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped on his head.

The only possible cause of his unrest was the exsphere. Kratos quickly slipped off his glove. The jewel was mutely glowing, a soft and dull light that could in no way be compared to previous bursts. He had no clue as to why it was acting up in the middle of the night. If it reacted to stress, a nightmare shouldn't be nearly as taxing as blowing up cannons. Either way, it _was_ stress. Kratos pondered the device's mechanisms for a moment. He didn't know how safe it was to remove it, but seeing as how it was directly attached to his skin, it may be more difficult than he'd thought. He had to return to Sybak before its affects became even more serious.

Attempting once again to fall into the embrace of sleep, Kratos found it was impossible. He settled for peering up into the darkness and losing himself in his thoughts.

Who knew how long it would be before he could ever sleep again?

* * *

**(A/N) The plot's finally coming together...review? XD**


	16. Chapter 16

**(A/N) Hello all! I'm pleased to tell you that this chapter is ****_on time_**** as well as lengthy! The only issue with it is flow- if it is a bit choppy, I apologize. I sat down and wrote different parts at different times (and in different orders o.O)- as always, enjoy!**

**And thanks go to Marina Ka-Fai, 1412 karasu, Reina Ann Vilre, and Arodelle for being such fantastic reviewers! You guys rock (even if I don't respond to every review!)**

**Disclaimer: If I owned ToS, and therefore controlled the production of ToS2, I would've vetoed it until they added Kratos and fixed the mini map. Obviously that didn't happen, so you're free to draw your own conclusions.**

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_**Chapter 16**_

* * *

Yuan awoke to an empty tent, pleasantly lit with the sort of musty gray light that first breaks dawn. He could hear the movements and organization of soldiers outside, as many of them were early risers, and he sat up quickly. _Kratos_. Where had the Tethe'allan gone to? It could be bad if some of the other troops confronted him, and Yuan was personally responsible for anything that happened. He shot up, adjusting his cloak and hair while pulling on his boots. Hopefully nothing had gotten too out of hand.

As Yuan stepped outside of his tent, he could spot several soldiers making their way to the center of the makeshift village. That's where breakfast would be dished out to any militia posted in the location. Yuan fell into step with them, unsure if Kratos had either gotten bored or actually ditched him to return to Tethe'alla. Yuan ran a hand through his hair nervously, unaware that he had mussed its perfect state. He caught himself just in time, though, and fixed it. What was the world coming to when he was messing up his own hair?

"Well, it looks like you managed to get Yuan frazzled." The familiar voice of Kenta sounded behind him, quietly observant. Yuan spun around to see his second-in-command standing next to a very indifferent looking Kratos.

"Hn. Must not be that difficult." Kratos stated dryly, not even meeting Yuan's relieved expression.

"I don't know," Kenta continued amicably, "I've known him for a while, and I think that was some kind of record." He was far too cheerful for Yuan's liking.

"Hey! Cut me some slack! I thought he bolted on me!" Yuan was quick to argue, despite Kenta's smile. Yuan directed his statement more at Kratos- er, _Raiden_, than Kenta, though. A raised eyebrow and apathetic silence from the boy was all that was garnered from the effort. Kenta barreled forward brightly into the quiet, oblivious to any deeper meaning.

"Yes, well, I found him walking along the pathways looking rather lost and decided to show him the ropes." Kratos scowled at that briefly, and Yuan had no doubt that he was not actually lost. "Though I am surprised his absence put you in such a state." Kenta now seriously took into account Yuan's half-woken expression.

"I was simply put off a bit." Yuan exhaled calmly. He easily slipped between Kratos and Kenta on their way to the central square, which was much smaller than one might expect. Kratos seemed composed, so Yuan just knew there was something up with him. He rested a hand on the Tethe'allan's shoulder, steering him lightly down the correct path.

"_Lost_, hm? You could've woke me up." Yuan mentioned lightly, feeling Kratos tense slightly at the implication he was capable of getting his directions mixed up in such a small camp.

"I was merely going for a walk to clear my head. It was early, and you seemed tired enough to sleep for at least a few more hours." The prince replied impassively. Yuan was quite honestly intrigued that the boy who could barely keep his eyes open the other night got up so early. Interesting.

"Well, next time you'd better wake me, or else we both could get into trouble for you having free reign over a Sylvaranti outpost. Not to mention the other soldiers won't take kindly to you being unsupervised." Yuan reminded the Tethe'allan who had most likely already considered such things before actually going for his 'walk'. That made it all the more aggravating. Someone that took the risk unknowingly could easily be convinced into not doing so in the future. Someone like Kratos that analyzed the risk and decided it was calculated and therefore _worth_ taking was infinitely more clever and incorrigible. Kenta again was optimistic and ignorant.

"Yes, well, he's perfectly nice enough. I'm sure everyone will take to him just fine." Yuan's eyebrows were so high they practically met his hairline.

"I'm not nice." Kratos was quick to retort, so monotonously, in fact, that Yuan had to chuckle at Kenta's expression. He blanched considerably when Kratos' russet eyes pierced him with a menacing glare. The coldness of Kratos' apparent lack of social skills was his preference, but when Yuan gave it further thought Kratos was completely wrong.

"Yes, because a particularly mean person would blow up mortars to save lives." Yuan jabbed sarcastically. Though Kratos probably didn't take it as such, it was a compliment.

"I do believe the operative words in that sentence are 'blow up'." Kratos blandly mentioned. Huh. Yuan had to agree with him there, but had no intention of letting Kratos know that he won. He was saved from answering when they reached the line of men outside the kitchen area.

"I'm starved." Yuan's stomach grumbled at the scent of food drifting out of the wooden establishment.

"Yea, most of us skipped dinner last night." Kenta agreed. Kratos was strangely silent, though Yuan admitted it wasn't actually that strange for him. Well, he was never really talkative, so Yuan didn't pay it much mind.

While they were eating their homogeneous mush that was probably oatmeal, Kratos glanced about at the other men.

"Yuan, what happens next for you guys?" He seemed a bit perplexed. "The Latheon pass is no longer a point of contention, so this outpost should become obsolete." Yuan's brow furrowed slightly. He didn't know where they would be posted next. It freed up so many soldiers that an escalation in border warfare was almost inevitable. He sighed.

"Hopefully we'll get assigned to somewhere quieter, like Ossa Trail. For now, we'll wait on orders. No doubt some messenger has already set off for Triet, then Palmacosta. The higher-ups will sort everything." Concluding with a shrug, Yuan scooped another spoonful of brown paste into his mouth.

"Ossa Trail would be pleasant." Kenta agreed, a faraway look in his eyes. Kratos was about to respond when a commotion could be heard approaching. Or rather, a person.

The eating area was outdoors due to necessity, and wooden picnic-like tables were strewn in something resembling order across a courtyard. Half-full with those that had woken early, the later men were just pouring in now. The quite angry looking veteran coming their way was one such person. He wasn't very quiet about his disruption either. Kratos figured 'veteran' was the best way to describe the austere man as his hair was in the process of graying and he had a wicked-looking scar down the left-side of his face. The scar didn't run through any facial features, but it was prominent enough to be noticed and easily a decade or so old. If Kratos were a betting person, he'd say that a curved Tethe'allan blade caused that wound.

"Yuan!" The angry call made the half-elf to Kratos' side roll his eyes as if he'd been expecting such a thing.

"Suguro" was the subtle acknowledgement. Kenta stiffened though, so Kratos figured the man must have some kind of pull in the Sylvaranti military. The wait was awkward while the man finished his hasty approach. It was odd how silent everyone had gotten; even the idle chit-chat among other tables ceased. Vaguely, Kratos decided that it would've been better if he had called out a bit later so as to perfect the timing.

"I've been told that you brought back a Tethe'allan without consulting the others." Kratos should've been concerned, the issue regarding himself, yet it was near comical how furious the man was. Yuan had his poker face on, Kratos noted.

"Being of equal rank, I was under the impression that I didn't have to consult you on anything if it did not impact you in any way." His eyes were narrowed. Suguro, on the other hand, was still boiling. His eyes were a muddy shade of either dark brown, or black- Kratos couldn't tell. Immediately, though, the aforementioned eyes locked onto him.

"Why isn't he being treated as a prisoner of war?" Suguro was still looking at him, but apparently not talking to his face. That rubbed Kratos the wrong way. He had decided to stay out of it, but this man was incredibly annoying. Patience.

"Because he's not one." Yuan's voice was edged with razors.

"Well, why the hell isn't he?" Kratos stood up abruptly. The man succeeded in making him mad, and he made it a habit of letting people know not to cross him when he was angry. Stepping away from the table, his hands formed fists.

"I am right here, you know. I can speak for myself." If he tried to refer to him like he wasn't present once more, Kratos could very nearly punch him in the face. His best Aurion glare burned like flames. Though the commander seemed put off by Kratos statement, he was doubly so by the glare.

"Tethe'allan scum! The courts will have to deal with you. Yuan, you'll be court-marshaled for this one!" he roared, leaning forward, presumably to shove Kratos. However, the Tethe'allan didn't let him get that far. Drawing his blade swiftly, Kratos twirled it expertly to rest on the man's neck, just above his clavicle. His eyes flashed.

"Maybe next time I should just let you die." Kratos waited for a look of confusion to cross the man's still incensed expression. "Get all the information before you fall back on your petty grudge against Tethe'allans. Simply because you were bested in battle once doesn't make every single one of us your enemies. Callous militarism does not make you a good soldier, either. In fact, I would shake the hand of the man who gave you that scar." he spat hotly before returning his blade to his sheath and stalking the way they had come. He needed to cool off. Sure, he'd been having a bad couple of days, but running that short a temper wasn't natural. Now was probably a good time to leave before he made any more adversaries.

Yuan could not keep the smile off his face. Kratos didn't lose his cool often, but he had blown up spectacularly at the well-hated general. Twice as amusing as Kratos' reaction was the stunned response that left Suguro silent. The audience-composed of a large number of avidly watching soldiers-provided optimum embarrassment. Hopefully that would humble the man, especially after not a single troop came to his assistance. Even better, as the object of his hatred retreated, Kenta began clapping. Soon enough, a booming applause and cheers rang through the mess hall. You'd think that they'd just won the war with the exuberant expressions and laughter bouncing around. Still smiling, Yuan noticed that Kratos had not ceased his wayward march. Kenta and he stood to go chase the kid down before he decided to ditch them.

"Oi! Raiden!" Kenta called out after they had left the buzzing of the square. Kratos barely glanced over his shoulders before continuing.

"Don't bother. I'm leaving." He didn't sound angry any more, but more distant. Yuan jogged up to him and tugged on his elbow, causing the Tethe'allan to meet his eyes irately. "What? I know I probably shouldn't have done that."

"No. That was perfection. I'm sure if they didn't like you before, you're everyone's favorite Tethe'allan now." Kratos looked at him skeptically, noting the grin plastered on both of the Sylvaranti's faces.

"It's true, didn't you hear the applause?" Kenta chimed in, looking somewhere between reverent and awestruck.

"You could get in serious trouble for that." Yuan scolded in a mock-serious tone, "Besmirching another general's good name in front of your supervising officer? I may have to completely disown you." They both began to laugh heartily, while Kratos continued to scowl. Yuan noticed, and his laughter died down.

"You're not seriously going to try leaving _again_?"

"I really can't afford to make any more enemies." Kratos shrugged. Though Kenta probably agreed, only Yuan understood how true that statement really was.

"You likely just made an army full of allies, if that helps." Yuan added, while they all continued walking.

"Though, I understand what you meant by not being 'nice'. I'll try not to get on your bad side." Kenta stated with a light-hearted laugh. Kratos felt himself smile a little. Perhaps it wouldn't be too bad to stay a while longer.

* * *

Martel's eyes had the appearance of sharpening when she was deep in thought, Xilia noticed vacantly. Somehow the researcher couldn't put her full focus on her work. It was odd enough working with a younger woman, but even more so with a half-elf. She didn't have much experience with them in Sybak, mostly because half-elves were not often afforded educations. She'd been told they were lesser beings, tainted with the blasphemy that accompanied mixing races. That somehow didn't seem to match Martel, though. The woman was smart, clearly. She was working her way around the limiting programs in the portable mana signature sensor like it was nothing. Her hair color and eye color were unique- Xilia had never seen green hair before. That piqued her intrigue, as she had first been a genetically geared researcher in the hereditary wing of their institute. Martel seemed kind, much like the half-elf Daisuke had brought with him. Relatively easy-going.

Someone was wrong about half-elves, then, because Xilia had met three now that acted like normal humans might. Martel's brother, Mithos, was incredibly shy around her. Given his age, though, Xilia imagined he hadn't met too many strangers.

"I've got it!" Martel cheered melodically, holding up the hand-held device to better catch the light. Apparently pleased, she screwed the back panel back on and powered it up. Xilia quickly realized that she'd been staring and flushed slightly at how little work she'd compiled. Martel had asked for mana records, and there was little to be found.

"I can't say I found much. Very few researchers have even scratched your subject area- which is quite fascinating actually." Martel was enraptured by her device, fingers dancing over the screen lightly. Quickly, she pulled up a data overlay that held a single fluctuating number. Pulling it closer to herself, she watched it rapidly rise. The device was working.

"Perfect." she sighed contentedly, finally meeting Xilia's questioning gaze.

"This will tell us the content of mana in the air, and by taking readings in various locations, we can develop flow charts and concentration maps. I just removed the protocols that kept the machine from being hyper sensitive. Mana signatures are measures of a number of things, primarily volume, so it was easily adapted. Downsizing it from people, now we know how much mana is naturally in the air- a much smaller number, but still there." Martel informed her.

"Wow." Xilia was impressed with the speed of her advances. She'd only just arrived, and they already had the means to experiment and collect data. "I'll get a mapping program roughed out, then, and we can start collecting!" She rushed back to her computer station, excited by the knowledge that lay just within reach. Briefly she wondered why no one else had looked into such an important topic. Mana was the source of life, wasn't it?

* * *

Upon hearing the news, Yuan found Kratos lying idle in the wiry grass. He looked almost as if he was cloud-watching.

"Hey, we're all headed to Triet until further orders are given." Yuan relayed the information he'd just received. Kratos didn't stir, still fixing his attention on the sky. A soft sigh escaped his lips though, and Yuan sat on the ground beside him. They'd been doing little to nothing all day while waiting on the messenger's return. Kratos still seemed to be considering something. They were in a fairly secluded location, just outside the camp where a few measly plants found hold in the rocky terrain.

"Could you help me with this?" Kratos turned to face him, one hand still behind his head. The other, however, he brought in front of him and held it as if to snap his fingers. After taking another deep breath, Kratos snapped his forefinger and thumb together. Yuan was befuddled at Kratos' antics until a bright spark sprung from the boy's hand. The bluish arc of electricity cracked once before disappearing.

"You can do magic?" Yuan was at a loss for words. Humans _shouldn't_ have the ability to cast any sort of spell, yet Kratos had managed a spark without even uttering words. "That's not _possible_."

"Evidently it is." Kratos shrugged, "I nearly set the grass on fire when I discovered it an hour ago."

To say Yuan was shocked would be an understatement. He was floored. Kratos' face suggested it wasn't an unusual discovery. Indifference could be infuriating sometimes.

"How is this not a big deal to you?!" Yuan felt like pushing the kid just to get a proper reaction, but knowing Kratos, that wouldn't do it either.

"You said it the other day- 'our lives are pretty screwed up'. I've stopped being thrown off by such things." Kratos' eyes narrowed. "Will you teach me?" He was as straightforward as he could be.

"Help you what? Learn magic? I'm not even sure you could. It's not as if you need it." Yuan was easing into the topic. The more he thought about it, a Kratos with magic wasn't really something he wanted to force on the world. On the other hand, it could be used as incentive to keep the boy in Sylvarant. Yuan was still unsure as to why he thought it would be best for Kratos to stay with him, but it made some sense. Who knew what else that kid would do on his own? Yuan still did owe him a favor or two after that stunt with the bridge. Perhaps that was contributing to his guilt. No matter the case, Kratos wasn't going to get out so easily. The Tethe'allan was patiently waiting for a real response, or he had stopped paying attention- Yuan could never tell.

"I could try teaching you, actually. It just takes practice." This prompted a reevaluation of the Sylvaranti by Kratos, a somewhat surprised look on his face.

"Really?" It wasn't a 'really' reflecting excitement to learn a new trade, but a 'really' asking what Yuan's angle was. As if he was manipulating him! Yuan scoffed at the thought. Wait. Maybe he _was_- just a little. It was a hard habit to break, assuming he wanted to. Manipulating Kratos into staying was not a bad thing, though, so Yuan pioneered ahead.

"What were you expecting?" Yuan allowed an amused smirk to cross his face. It was incredible how well Kratos could guess his motives.

"Less of a polite 'Okay' and more of a 'You've already blown up enough bridges _without_ magic'." Kratos' apathy in the statement made it comical. The real irony was that it had been Yuan's first reaction to the idea.

"I suppose it had crossed my mind."

"I could tell. You looked horrified."

"No, I didn't!"

"Whatever you say."

* * *

Martel peered down at what was becoming her most precious possession.

"3.2 TP" she called out when the numbers finally stabilized. Xilia scribbled it furiously on her map while they continued walking to another arbitrary location within the city of Sybak. Gathering menial data was more interesting than staying within the grey confines of the research facility, so Martel was happy for fresh air. She never felt completely at ease indoors, something about being cut off from nature and surrounded by coldly refined walls was just uncomfortable. Perhaps it came from growing up in Yggdrasil, where the basic necessities were melded with the forest. Martel stopped again, prompting Xilia to stop next to her.

"3.8 TP" a slight change. Xilia hastily copied it down while her eyes darted over the other data points. Her map of the city was littered with numbers, but she sifted quickly and found the trend.

"It appears that the mana content steadily increases to the south west." That was immediate progress that they hadn't been expecting.

"Geographically, that'd be the grassland prone to the world's worst hurricanes, right?" Martel deftly linked the mana content to weather patterns. Xilia pushed up her glasses.

"It's possible, though we have to cross-reference this with population densities. Interference needs to be removed before we can be sure." They could work out contour densities back at the lab.

"It's true," Martel admitted, though she still had an edge to her voice betraying excitement, "not to mention- we are dealing in TP, the smallest unit of mana. These fluctuations may not even be patterned." Contrary to what she said, her entire research thesis was based on the fact that the mana flowed. That was no excuse for shoddy research, though. She was prepared to take every step necessary. Xilia hummed softly in acknowledgement as their feet clipped solidly on the cobblestone pathways. Delving into the population records should clear up any discrepancies caused by interfering mana signatures.

Maybe the mana was linked to extreme weather- Martel felt like there was much more to it.

* * *

Kratos trudged alongside Yuan towards Triet, soldiers in messy approximations of ranks behind and in front of them. The desert city was a fair journey from Latheon Gorge, but they'd only have to camp one night. Or so Yuan told him. During their desultory march, Yuan was ardently describing the wonders of their destination.

"The city itself is beautifully built. Labyrinths of awnings are constructed to provide shade across the entire infrastructure, hundreds of expertly crafted pillars holding them up." Yuan was eagerly painting the scene of his hometown. Kratos, somewhat taken in to the conversation by his demeanor, furrowed his brow.

"Isn't that dangerous? What are the awnings made out of?" It almost sounded like the Sylvaranti had put a ceiling on their town in order to protect themselves from the sun.

"A lightweight stone, a type of polycarbonate, I think. It's commonly the product of mining in the region and manufacturing the various ores." Yuan shrugged. "The architecture is too good to allow a serious cave-in. Even if one happened, the distribution of the weight is in segments, so the rest of Triet would be fine." His face lit up again, "You'll be impressed with the arches, though." Years had gone into the carving of the stone buildings and layout of the desert jewel, and Yuan would brag on it every chance he got.

"Where does your water come from?" Kratos had begun by humoring Yuan, but was now genuinely interested. There had to be better locations than a desert to build a city. Yuan was prepared to boast again, and Kratos let him.

"There's a nearby oasis- a small lake bubbling up from a large aquifer. Aqueducts span across the distance from the oasis to the city."

"Why not just build the city on the oasis?" If there was a lake in a desert, Kratos would've definitely built there if at all.

"I think it started as a religious temple underground- high mana levels or something of the sort." Yuan had been taught that in history class, but he'd been more geared to pay attention to information regarding the war front. The war was what could threaten their homes, so it was worth his focus. History- not so much. Yuan quickly switched back, "But Triet is sheltered on two sides by mountains, which makes it more defensible than open terrain."

"Not if you're a hundred times more vulnerable." Kratos was very quick to bring reason. The Sylvaranti were lucky the border dispute never caught hold this far into the desert. Triet could be taken in a very short siege. "All the Tethe'allans have to do is put a break in your aqueduct system, and Triet is history." Yuan blanched slightly at that. He didn't like the immediacy of the subject, and Kratos had a very valid point.

"I suppose that's from a Tethe'allan's point of view." Yuan shook his head slightly.

"No, that's from a logical point of view." Kratos bristled, "I don't know what you're trying to say." There was no need to point out nationality. They were just talking. Yuan shook his head more definitively this time.

"No, I mean that I gave you an achievement and you turned it into a weakness." Yuan's tone was calm and controlled; whereas Kratos looked dangerously close to another blow-out. Funny, usually it was the other way around.

"I was _helping_ you." Suddenly Kratos' cool was firmly rooted yet again, but Yuan could still see his eyes flashing dangerously.

"I'm not very well going to change the location of my hometown. Though, it is good to know how my enemies think." Yuan admitted that much, expecting it to alleviate some of the tension. Kratos, however, looked put off even more.

"I'm glad that I think just like your _enemies_, then." The sarcasm was cutting, and Yuan realized his mistake too late. Kratos had gone so far as to not commit to either side in the dispute- even ran away from everything he knew in order to do so. The Tethe'allan had been very particular to give him a neutral perspective, and Yuan had responded bitterly to the criticism. His love for Triet had biased him to its weaknesses.

"You know that's not what I meant by it!" Yuan didn't need this, after all the trouble he'd gone to gain Kratos' friendship. The cutting russet glare met his own in full force, examining, calculating. It softened slightly, and the redhead let out a sigh.

"I know. It's just-" The teen scowled exasperatedly, "if not even _you_ can get past your hatred of Tethe'allans as foes, then how am I to expect everyone else to?" A quick shake of the head obscured the blazing eyes once again with auburn locks. Yuan saw his discouragement.

"Maybe we can't." Yuan noted, a bit morosely. "I'm starting to think that we've been fighting for so long that we don't remember how to not." That elicited a hollow laugh from his companion- completely devoid of humor.

"Guess we won't know until we try." Despite Kratos' cynical tone, Yuan smiled faintly at his use of 'we'.

"Guess so."

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**(A/N) so... pretty lengthy and a lot of stuff happened that needed to happen to get the plot rolling. We've hit the 50K words mile stone! YAY! Hope you liked it! Review? xD**


	17. Chapter 17

**(A/N) *cringes* Sorry people! I know this took ****_forever_****, but don't hate me! I've been stuck on this chapter, but finally worked through it. For your long and patient wait (in which I hope no one's forgotten what is going on...) you get an extra long chapter!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned ToS, I'd go there every summer for vacation. I don't.**

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_**Chapter 17**_

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Kratos and Yuan were nearing Triet, and something was terribly wrong. After spending a relatively relaxed day beforehand traveling and hoisting up tents to spend the night, they immediately regretted not putting haste in the journey. Unrest caught through the ranks as the city came into view.

Kratos imagined that a normal version of Triet would look cavernous and cave-like, held up with thick struts of columns. What he could see was a travesty of that picture. Smoke was billowing up from the inside and pouring into the sky, puffing into an enormous spindly structure that stretched upwards seemingly without end. The 'ceiling' as he had previously dubbed the city's awnings looked collapsed in areas and broken as pillars lay in heaps. Worst of all was the fire. As far as Kratos knew, few things were flammable this deep into the desert, but something must have caught because the raging flames danced in shadows as if attempting to rival the daylight in brightness and heat.

"What happened?" Yuan shouted desperately as his hometown lay in ruins. Everyone broke into a run to save what they could of Triet. Upon nearing, Yuan recognized some of the damage as irreparable. The flawless polycarbonate was fractured in many places, where previously not even a seam had existed. He felt numbed and confused. Triet should've been safe. There was no way the Tethe'allans could've made it so far inland without him knowing. But how could it not have been the Tethe'allans? A quick glance at Kratos revealed that the boy was just as lost as he was. In fact, he looked so bent out of shape that Yuan wondered how he could feel for a city he had never seen.

The grand entrance somehow lay untouched, in a grotesque contrast with the rest of the city. Without any hesitation, Kratos, Yuan and several others barreled straight inside. Their vision was clouded by thick layers of smoke. The shaded area was at first cooler than the unforgiving sun, but the fire had a different kind of heat. This heat did not weight upon the shoulders like that of the desert, but instead it burned and scorched and singed the skin. It was intense, and passed over them in waves.

Yuan's eyes searched fleetingly for any survivors, his feet moving of their own accord throughout the wreckage. Depending on how fast the blaze had caught, people might still be trapped within. The flames licked at the sides of the pillars that blocked their way forward, and a dull roaring sounded as they consumed anything flammable- and maybe what wasn't. Kratos did a double take when his eyes fell upon a cracked and desolate piece of polycarbonate that was apparently burning. Engulfed by fire, the rock was slowly eaten away, and Kratos was taken in by the impossibility of it.

"Yuan!" He yanked the half-elf's sleeve to draw his attention. "Is it supposed to burn?" The yell was accompanied by a frantic gesture to the withering stone. Yuan's eyes, watery from the smoke, widened in surprise.

"No." What was the source of such a strange fire that burned everything in its path? There would be no stopping it until all of Triet lay in waste. They needed to find the starting place- the underlying cause, before the very last remnants of the ceiling came crashing down. It was as if his thoughts were answered by a resounding boom, followed by a very deep, animalistic roar that vibrated through the soles of their boots.

"Beneath." Kratos yelled to be heard over the flames, his arm covering his mouth in a weak attempt to protect his lungs from the stifling smoke. Yuan nodded. There was only one place under ground. He began to wonder if some deity had it out for him. The gods must be angry, because there was something massive residing in the holy temple.

"This way!" Yuan called back, pushing the Tethe'allan forward to circumvent the collapsed pillars. He guided them to the main entrance of the temple, all the while questioning if it was such a good idea to approach whatever being caused this holocaust. Kratos had the same precautionary instincts.

"How the _hell_ are we supposed to beat it?" The snide remark was roughened by the racking cough that followed. Where they were headed was subject to much denser smog, and Kratos had taken to ducking down to see their path. The smoke layered thickly, yet somehow the densities worked out so that a thin layer of relatively clear air lay close to the floor. Yuan deftly lead them through unobstructed corridors, and only had a little difficulty when they had to navigate debris. It seemed he knew Triet as well as Kratos knew Meltokio.

"Still working on that." Yuan's indifferent shrug was at odds with the raw determination in his stance. He was doing a very good job of hiding his emotional distress, in Kratos' opinion. That, however, did not make running head on into this mess a good idea. Yuan's judgment was probably impaired, so Kratos would have to be the one to think it all through.

"Do you know any water magic?" he wasn't really looking forward to being fried to a crisp. Yuan's face lit up as if he'd forgotten.

"Some. That'll come in handy." Kratos was now seriously worried. He hadn't even _thought_ about a strategy. They were royally screwed. However, Kratos was just as interested in discovering what was at fault for the destruction of the city. There couldn't be too much harm in at least trying to stop this train wreck.

Who was he kidding? This was stupid.

Yuan was quietly adamant about their direction, and Kratos would never be one to chicken out. He could only hope that his sword wasn't useless and that the heat didn't kill them both. Already the sweat poured off of him in rivulets and he quite literally felt like he was melting. Yuan was no better to his left. Rather, it seemed that the Sylvaranti was much worse off in the elevating temperature. He was panting heavily and his skin shimmered with perspiration.

Quickly, they came upon a wall of ten-foot flames blocking their way. The golden tendrils flicked and swayed dangerously and erratically as they combed outwards. There was a near vertical pile of rubble to their left, and a polycarbonate wall to their right. They could either backtrack and find another way, or brave a way through the new barrier. Kratos was beginning to feel lightheaded, the smoke was getting to him and overlaying a fuzzy blanket to his senses. Everything was slurring and dripping together, but he had the logic to stay focused. He could hold out until they got to the underground chamber Yuan was talking about.

Yuan pressed his hands together and shut his eyes, the reddish tint to his skin gone with a flash of blue light. An intricate spell circle had manifested itself at his feet, glowing mutely and dilating from the pivot point that was his body. Kratos watched intently as his companion muttered a few choice words under his breath and his eyes flashed open. It may have only been for a moment, but Kratos was sure that Yuan's eyes had shifted to an even brighter blue as the mana was expelled from his body.

A blade of energy-infused water materialized as his casting circle faded and shot towards the obtrusive wall of fire, sizzling in contact as it was forced through. The dousing thoroughly cleared the scorched floor ahead, while a few lingering embers mingled weakly on the periphery. The hissing that resulted as the cool liquid evaporated produced a filmy white fog that already began to mix with the darker smoke, heightening their visibility yet also making the harsh lines softer. The cooling effect was minimal, but now the entire setting looked surreal and somewhat magical with the hazy vapor and flickering light. Yuan rushed forward, with Kratos hard on his heels.

Yuan's brow creased. He knew the entrance had to be somewhere around here. His uncertainty lasted only for a brief moment though, as the deeply set stair case descended to their right. The stones were dark, and in relatively good shape despite the blackened evidence of flame. The power flowing below them was tangible here, even thicker and more suffocating than before. He shot a look at Kratos.

"Our best chance is magic. If you can hold whatever-it-is' attention, then I can cast. If not, then we'll have to come up with another plan." Yuan summoned his butterfly blade in case he needed to use it, while Kratos drew his sword and tentatively set off into the holy chamber. The damage had to be stopped. If the fire was magic-based as it appeared, then the only way was to destroy the source. Kratos nodded sharply as they descended. The fresh silence was deceptive and ominous, but they didn't let their guard down nevertheless. Power was surging within the cavern.

Yuan realized that he didn't have the faintest clue of what had taken place. But he'd gone had gotten them stuck dead center in the whole ordeal. Another reassuring look from Kratos, though, revealed the redhead as grim and rearing to go. Yuan had neglected to notice Kratos' mana growing more and more intimidating as it somehow managed to emerge cold to the point of ice, even in the blistering heat. Now, that strangeness was anchoring. Kratos was fairly stable in comparison to their dilapidated surroundings. Yuan was obdurate. He had to salvage what he could of his hometown before there was nothing left.

* * *

Martel scratched copiously on the papers flung across her work station, occasionally checking upon her machine for anything notable. So much data to back up her hypotheses, she was genuinely optimistic about her results. Mithos hung quietly at her side. If she wasn't so into her studies, then she would have asked him why he was so reserved. Instead, though, his bright gaze trained on each item. He eagerly soaked up the information with a silent enthusiasm Martel found admirable. He was remarkably intelligent for his age, and Martel knew his lack of speaking was due to the human woman's presence. Whenever they were alone, the boy's vocabulary was very advanced and he talked her ear off.

Watching the mana sensor, his azure eyes widened.

"Sis." The first word spoken in several hours, softly urgent.

"Hm?" Her attention drawn temporarily, she twisted her head to view what had caught her brother's eyes.

The mana sensor had spiked. She could feel it too- the content of the air shifting like a wave, washing over the land with frenetic energy.

The readings surged briefly before collapsing again. The jump was dramatic, several times the usual mana composition, but now there was no evidence it had even happened aside from a few numbers over the span of a few seconds.

"What's going on?" Xilia asked beside her, curious and oblivious to what only those with elven blood could feel.

"I'm not sure." Her brow furrowed in confusion. What kind of power source could emit so much mana?

* * *

Kratos' eyes quickly adjusted to the dimness, illuminated only by a strong reddish glow that appeared to be stemming from the deep recesses beyond the catwalks. The effect given by the entire cavernous room was one of volcanic power. Though he knew they had only transversed a short distance down, he never would have been able to fathom what lay underneath the desert city without seeing it as he was now. He peered into the faintly lit area. It felt much bigger, though it was hard to see deep ahead. The stiflingly still air began to flow as they reached the end of a sand stone pathway and it was as if the walls had opened up to either side like an arena. The same sense of an entity lay static but broiling with force somewhere ahead. He hated the feeling of unpredictability he associated with not knowing.

Kratos was thankful that Yuan's scatter-brained expression had shifted to a more aware and focused one. Considering their imminent battle, Kratos needed him to be at attention. The strength of the aura was pulling to the right, and Kratos followed the mana emanating from whichever monster awaited them. The paths and staircases wound around one another, but it was simple enough to find their way. Despite scarcely making a sound, Kratos felt the presence become even more unsettled by their proximity. It was so near, he should be able to see it. Feeling the signature shift quickly, Kratos knew they'd been found out.

"Ready yourself!" He called to Yuan, tightly grasping his hilt before plunging in the direction he felt the mana surge. An earsplitting roar cracked through the air, rough and ancient in timbre, but menacing all the same. Kratos zeroed in on his target after rounding the final corner leading onto a raised platform. Given proper time to react, he might've stopped and remained rooted to the spot to examine the beast. Considering the impending attack, however, his reflexes prevented him from doing so. Slipping to the side nimbly, he was narrowly able to avoid a burst of flames. The heat radiated in waves off of the fire, and even without being hit, Kratos still had the feeling of being scorched. Glancing back to reassure himself that Yuan hadn't rounded the corner yet, Kratos then allowed himself a better look at their opponent.

A massive four-legged beast resided in the center of the cavern, adorned with coarse plates and spiky horns that looked fit to impale anyone that dared to encroach. Easily twice as tall as himself, and twice as long as it was tall, Kratos was having a hard time believing he could keep the creature busy. A heavily armored tail swung itself around as if it was a mace, and Kratos swiftly dodged once again.

"Yuan! I hope you've started already!" He found himself calling out while he had his hands more than filled with his current task. A few seconds later, however, Kratos was relieved to hear the final words to his companion's chant.

"Aqua Edge!" A crescent of water shot across the stone floors and collided harshly with the head of the monster, sizzling on impact. Using the opening Yuan had given him, Kratos jumped as close to the face as he dared and landed a heavy blow on the neck. He expelled a bit of mana with the strike, but his sword clattered off of the thick shell without doing anything more than collateral damage. He swore profusely as he was forced to slide under another spurt of fire. His sword was near useless for anything but distraction unless he could find a weak spot in the impenetrable armor.

All of a sudden, the body of the beast coiled and sprung for him. The fact that it was surprisingly agile likened the creature to a fierce hunting cat. Kratos caught himself between steps somewhat off-balance, but managed to narrowly avoid the tough looking claws. He was immediately faced with the club-like tail, and leapt deftly over to land on the balls of his feet. If he was going to focus on dodging attacks, then he'd have to be careful and not paint himself into a corner. Meanwhile, Yuan was able to get land another water-based attack.

Kratos was certain that the magic was taking its toll on the monster, for each blast of high-pressure liquid was accompanied by a roar more infuriated than the last. Unfortunately the beast was quickly losing interest in him, despite his best efforts to garner attention. The dull yellow eyes had locked onto Yuan as the biggest threat, and Kratos could do little to keep it away.

"Yuan! It's coming!" He called out while hacking a few times at the stomach before swiftly slipping to the other side to avoid any repercussions. The most he was doing was irritating the thing. He'd never felt more useless. A look at his companion revealed soft blue light radiating from the caster's circle and rapt concentration. The temperatures were broiling and Kratos could feel Yuan's mana struggling to compose itself into an attack. Maybe if he mimicked Yuan's mana transformation he could produce the same outcome without words? Doubtful. But he could be a more effective distraction than he was. If the creature's movements were anything to go by, they were winning marginally. It had slowed down substantially after repeated magic attacks, yet the heat had intensified tenfold. Whatever it was, it was desperate.

Heaving a deep breath, Kratos decided his next course of action. His father had always said decisiveness was one of the most important qualities a leader could have, but above all else was the unwavering will to back up the decision. However stupid it was, he was going to follow through.

"God, I'm an idiot." He muttered as he sprung onto the monster's plated back, landing steadily right behind the neck joint. Mustering mana into his strike, he plunged the blade as hard as he could downward. The tip crashed into the armor, emitting a cracking noise as it did so, but refused to go further. The strike educed a howl from the monster and a harried attempt to throw him off. The beast rippled beneath him, and as it pushed itself onto its hind legs, he was violently thrown into the air. His hand slipped off of the hilt of his blade, which remained firmly lodged in the creature's back.

Somehow, he twisted and bent his knees upon impact to minimize the damage done. It was by no means gentle, but he could handle being a little roughed up. The monster whipped around and trained its eerily predatory gaze on him. Aside from being a bit out of breath, he was no worse for wear. Except for the fact that he had lost his damn sword.

Yuan had been watching with his heart in his throat. He couldn't break concentration, or else the spell would nullify and he'd have to start over. _Focus_. Sweat dripped down his brow, but the heat wasn't the most pressing problem. He was running out of mana, and if the monster didn't kick the bucket soon, they'd both be both figurative and literal toast. In fact, this spell would probably be his last one.

Summoning the last of his strength into a single Aqua Edge, Yuan watched as Kratos sidestepped another jet of sweltering inferno. The ferocity in which the creature was lunging at him had picked up. Yuan might just be too late. He tripled his efforts, feeling the strain as the magical energy intensified.

Kratos was running out of platform. He knew that he had to work around the animal's flanks, but the tail and spiky head barred either side effectively. Nearing one of the trench-like fissures, he was aware of Yuan's attack forming. He only had to hold out a bit longer before the magic served as another diversion for him to slip away. The life-force of the creature was damaged; power aside, the organic container it was in was crumbling.

Kratos ducked another swipe of knife-like claws as he neared the platform's edge. It was bent on his demise, apparently. He was in the exact situation that he intended to avoid. Why did that always end up happening?

"Anytime now, Yuan!" He called out, still managing to put an arrogant edge into the plea. He was too near to the edge now, and the spiny head viciously twisted across his right hand side while spewing flame. The ancient beast was forcing him to his left, where the tail arced menacingly in wait. He had no weapons but his own arms, which were useless against such a foe, - and, and he had _mana_.

Yuan thought he'd taken too long, and as the beast made what looked like a desperate final lunge across the platform, he finally released his pent up magic at its exposed side.

"Aqua Edge!" It wouldn't make it in time, he knew it- the beast was already mid-lunge. Yuan staggered a half-step forward, breath caught in his throat as Kratos was obscured by the body of the beast and- enormous purple sparks cracked in contact with the creature. The monster was repelled briefly enough for his slice of water magic to cover the distance between them and crash as a small wave of power.

It was the final blow.

The mythical beast collapsed under the impact of the water magic, its entire being hissing and crumbling as if it were made up of molten rock. In a blinding flash of reddish light, the monster dissolved into dust as it returned to the demon realm of Niflheim. Yuan's eyes widened as Kratos stood precariously near to the end of the platform relatively unharmed.

The heat had dissipated almost as quick as it had come, and the cooling sensation was bliss to his feverish skin. A grin spread across his worn out expression, but as Yuan leaned forward to go meet his red-haired companion, his steps stalled weakly and he nearly fell to his knees. His mana was so near to depleted that it was surprising he was still conscious after the last attack. Kratos recognized that quickly and broke into a quick run to check on the half-elf.

"Hey, are you okay?" Kratos steadied him, sensing his diminutive mana supply.

"I think so." Yuan muttered, grateful for the support. Sizing up the teenager in front of him, Yuan could only see a few shallow scratches. They had both scraped up a victory out of the ashes in Triet.

"You just performed high level magic." Yuan added, clearly impressed. It had saved his skin, too. Kratos nodded briefly, before his eyes caught the flash of silver in the swirling dust. The mighty beast had been reduced to no more than sand, yet his sword lay battered and gleaming in the pile. He trotted over to pick it up and examine the damage. He found scorch marks and a few nicks, but those could easily be taken care of. He sheathed it before both he and Yuan began to work their way back out of the temple.

"Next time, you can be the distraction." Kratos had one of Yuan's arms slung over his shoulders. Yuan sighed dramatically.

"No argument there."

* * *

Mithos watched the human with well concealed distaste. The _thing_'s interaction with his sister had been constant- a never ending buzz that grated on his nerves. Since the energy apexed, they'd been speaking in a sort of technical language he had a tough time following. From what he could tell, the mana was released from a location to the west.

Even he knew that it likely had come from Sylvarant.

What he couldn't fathom was why his sister and the _human_ cared so much about what was happening in Sylvarant. Wasn't that their problem? Aside from his sister, he was pretty sure that that was how the world worked. Everyone was on their own and had to deal with their own concerns. People were callous and insignificant individually, and that was the intrinsic issue with them. If they just cared a little bit more about others, then they would realize that fighting was stupid.

But humans _were_ stupid.

Many treated him and his sister like some pest worse than garbage, and even those that might have a heart would just watch silently. No one ever dared to help, and Mithos fumed internally. They were all the same. He fixed another hard look on his sister. She was so bright and kind, she probably didn't realize humanity's flaw- or she was just so far above them that it was beneath her to recognize it. Nevertheless Mithos was no such person. He would fight it until they changed, for everyone's sake.

* * *

"What happened?" Kratos was sunk into the sand as comfortably as he could manage, a little ways away from the ruins that used to be Triet. All the fire had gone out, but so much of the damage was irreparable and close to two-thirds of the city was completely destroyed. The reality was sinking in for Yuan, and he pinched the bridge of his nose as a headache came on.

"I have no idea." He spared a glance at his hometown and found he couldn't tear his gaze away from it. "It couldn't have been the Tethe'allans. It was that monster." It was the largest and most powerful monster he'd ever faced by far.

"Obviously." Kratos deadpanned, "but how did it _get _there? Things like that don't just appear out of thin air. Especially not for no reason." Frustration was evident in his voice. It didn't make sense. Other troops were assisting survivors and sifting through the wreckage for salvageable supplies. The destruction had been sudden and swift. And apparently sourced from the temple. "I need more information." Kratos finally admitted. Yuan grunted in agreement.

"Why do you care so much?" Yuan found himself asking, to his own horror. Something felt like it lay closer to the prince's heart than he was letting on. Yuan was too tired to mask his interrogation any better.

"There would be something wrong with me if I didn't care." Kratos breezily avoided the question altogether. Yuan had met plenty of humans who were kind, and plenty who were cruel- but Kratos knew that wasn't what he had meant with the question. A narrowed glance evinced another response.

"Do you know if-" Kratos was having difficulty approaching the subject, and Yuan knew he'd been correct in his initial assumption, "if your family is okay?" Kratos only allowed the smallest stammer, yet that spoke volumes for him. Yuan's composed expression shattered into one of touched surprise.

"You were worried for my family?" Yuan was dumbfounded. Giving it further thought, though, the boy had his own share of familial tragedy. Death had plagued his childhood and now he was left with only one surviving sibling. He understood what loss on such a scale could do, and on many an occasion Yuan could see it in his eyes. A mourning solemnity that never really left him despite his best efforts to hide it. Yuan knew what that felt like, too.

"Well, you said Triet was your hometown." Kratos averted his gaze, awkwardly- uncomfortable with expressing concern.

"Yes, but my elven mother lives in a small village not too far from Asgard. My father has long been dead, and I have no brothers or sisters." Yuan had come to terms with his father's passing years ago, and it was no secret of his.

"Oh. I apologize." Kratos sunk back into silence, restful and pondering, as he leaned back into the sand.

"Don't." Yuan chided lightly, "and thanks." The word felt light and insignificant to compensate for everything that had happened. "I've dragged you into a mess you had no part in."

"I'm part of most messes anyway." Kratos shrugged, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Yuan felt his own grin blossoming in return.

"And here I thought I was the only one with that problem." Softly humming in reply, Kratos made to stand up.

"I should probably see what I can do to help." He dusted himself off with just the slightest of discomforts from their earlier battle. When Yuan shuffled to mimic him, Kratos gave him a pointed glare. "You're in no condition to do anything but rest." Any protest Yuan could come up with died in his throat at the stern look of poorly cloaked anxiety.

"Aah- okay." Yuan conceded with dignity (because half-elves _did not _pout). He let himself settle again in the fine sands. It seemed that most of the people were clueless, shell-shocked and dazedly slumped alongside the edge of the crumbled city. The grandeur was reduced to nothing in a mere matter of hours. The air reeked of smoke and death, and Yuan's fingers curled into a fist. Sorrow had stricken his hometown down in a freak natural disaster. It made no sense for such a powerful fire-elemental monster to spawn below the town and wreak havoc.

The world was going to war with its inhabitants.

* * *

At the end of the day tents were set up just as they were the night before, but now there weren't nearly enough. In favor of sleeping outside, Yuan had given up his own to a small family. Kratos had joined him after meals were rationed out, and they lay out under the stars as the last of the smoke cleared. Yuan noted the boy's unfaltering stare upwards, lips slightly forming mute words.

"Are you counting them?" He asked incredulously, "There are billions. You'll never finish." Kratos' head tilted a bit in acknowledgement.

"It keeps me busy. I don't intend to finish." Yuan sighed slightly to his right, noting only how the red-head had never torn his gaze, or apparently stopped counting while talking to him.

"You're peculiar." Yuan let out as he took a look at the dark, yet brilliantly lit sky. Being out in the desert, away from any light source aside from the occasional fire, made star-gazing surreal. The vastness of the space engulfed them, and dwarfed the trivialness that was mortality. Yuan figured only someone like Kratos would find solace in such a thing. One of the unbidden, yet unappreciated beauties that the world offered up every night.

"Do you know the constellations?" Kratos asked him, after pausing in his count. Yuan took the quiet conversation as Kratos letting him in. After all they'd been through maybe he could crack the monotonous exterior.

"Some, but I'd bet that you wouldn't know them. They're all Sylvaranti." Kratos' eyes searched the sky for something, but he couldn't seem to find whatever he'd been looking for after a drawn out silence.

"I know nearly all of the Tethe'allan ones. See the three small ones to the left of the moon?" Yuan nodded as he pinpointed the glistening cluster of stars. Now that he looked closer at them, they made a perfect dewdrop with the surrounding stars. "That's the Tear of Celsius. In the summer, the tip always points north." Yuan remained quiet as the boy pointed out constellation after constellation. He knew he wouldn't remember them all, but there was a hidden wonder in Kratos' unending knowledge on astronomy. A flashing streak cut across the perfect sky and they both paused to admire it.

"A shooting star." Yuan muttered. "Doesn't that have something to do with fate?"

"Hn. Something of the sort. In past history it's been used as both an omen for terrible tragedy and great fortune. I suppose that just means that it doesn't mean anything." Kratos shrugged it off.

"No, I think it just means that destiny has picked our lives to be memorable. Important somehow." Yuan let his eyes drift shut. He was tired. He did have the feeling that something big had hold of their lives, intertwining the strings of providence around each other. He just hoped that they would stay on the same side.

"Great." Kratos replied sardonically, "you'd be better off killing me now. The last thing I need is a curse on top of my bad luck." He scoffed lightly.

"You know, I have excellent luck." Yuan cautiously prodded, "we should stick together, and maybe it'll balance out." He was only halfway joking. There was no tension in the air, but Yuan had already noticed what the Tethe'allan was starting to mean to him.

"That's not a half-bad idea, Kaafei." Kratos considered. The Sylvaranti was the closest anyone had been to him in a long time, and Kratos didn't take those bonds lightly. What could he say? He didn't participate in banter with many people. As the teenager to his side drifted off to sleep and his breathing evened out, Kratos resumed his watching of the heavens.

He didn't know where his life was headed, but perhaps Yuan was right. The growing sensation of action loomed before them, something he knew he had no control over. Whatever came upon them, he realized he didn't want to face alone.

_**-End Part 1-**_

* * *

**(A/N) A note to all: The next chapter will take place 5 years later. This is a big jump, I know, but its necessary. And maybe when I'm done, I'll do an accompaniment piece that covers some of the adventures that take place those five years. Everyone will become the proper age (ballparking) for the two groups to meet and save the world etc. I need time for the problems to fester xD. Any ways, hope you liked it, review?**


	18. Chapter 18

**(A/N) Hey guys! I was on vacation for a while, so as a reward for your patience you all get a jam-packed chapter full of excitement and development. In case you forgot- the last chapter was the end of part one. Kratos is about 20, Yuan 23, Martel 22, Mithos 12. Enjoy part 2!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the storyline and this computer- Tales belongs to NAMCO ;;**

* * *

_**Chapter 18**_

* * *

_~*Five Years Later*~_

_(Just outside the small Sylvaranti village of Luin)_

Two men crouched motionlessly in the brush, eyes roving methodically over their surroundings. Night had just fallen like a blanket of dark film, softening the hard edges with shadows. Their muscles were tense with anticipation and coiled to spring.

Their prey crept clumsily into sight- a mob of crudely dressed and armed bandits. All the more obvious was the torchlight they foolishly brought along, flickering like a beacon in the gloom.

"You'll go no further." The eldest of the two commanded confidently as they both revealed themselves. He had taken a battle-ready stance, his curious blade ghastly in its dreadful arc. The younger beside him had twisted a deceptively ordinary sword out of his sheath and lowered its tip to the grassy terrain.

The would-be-plunderers stopped in their tracks before the two, some taken aback and others snorting in disbelief. One bearing a thick torch and a rusty stiletto laughed raucously.

"I suppose the two of you are going to stop us from taking what we want?" His voice rang somewhat guttural, and he gestured to his fellow thieves with the flat of his blade. There were easily twenty of them in the circle of jittering light. His companions joined in the snickering, many of them regaining their wits after the initial surprise.

"Yes." The firm response was tersely spoken as the younger shook spiky locks of auburn hair from his face.

"It's your funeral." One of the bandits called from the back of the crowd as shuffling was heard.

"We're with the Sylvaranti Internal Enforcement partition," The half-elf clarified calmly, "You'd be much better off if you just turned around and walked away."

"That doesn't change the fact that there are only two of you." The sheer arrogance the words were spoken with reeked of a painful death should it come upon them, "I've had enough of this absurd conversation anyway." A chortle of agreement rose among the others and they descended upon the two peace-keepers with uncoordinated bedlam.

The mild ferocity of the thieves was subdued considerably as their self-proclaimed opponents sprung into action. Unmatched speed and supernatural precision likened the unruly mass to an inexperienced group of clumsy children.

* * *

Kratos felt the thrilling rush of adrenaline pulse through his veins when he crisply launched into his first attack. Ducking a sloppy swipe from his left, he cleaved through an adversary's armor, sending the man reeling backwards into his companions. Despite the sheer number of enemies, the Tethe'allan wove between them and felled them in the blink of an eye. His reflexes had steadily improved to the point where deflecting an anticipated blow was as simple as breathing.

The air pumping through his lungs and the sharpness of battle put his muscles on edge- his ears attentive to every step of a boot and whirl of a blade. His Cruxis Crystal had honed his senses to perfection, and fighting like he was currently engaged every one of them. He almost enjoyed it.

* * *

Yuan had quickly gotten separated from his comrade, but he wasn't concerned. There were more than enough foes to keep his attention, yet none were skilled enough to warrant it for very long. He cleanly twisted out of the path of an unfriendly fireball and sent his own slice of wind to silence the enemy caster. Any of their magic users had limited abilities, only capable of the most basic of spells. For that Yuan was grateful. It would be a handful to manage both the swordsmen and adept ranged fighters. He cut an outlaw at the knee and easily leapt over the man's flailing sword as he fell.

Sparing a glance in Kratos' direction, he noted the red-head excelling yet again as he ripped through a wall of enemies. Though, Yuan was quickly distracted and pulled back into his own battles.

The rest of it should've been easy.

* * *

Kratos extended his free arm and called forth as much magic power as he could without uttering a formal spell. The slender arc of lightning flashed down from above and arrested one of the bandits in his steps, mid-charge. Yuan had taught him much about focusing his mana and filtering it into different elemental forms, but lightning still came easiest to him.

Contrary to the thinning enemy numbers as many collapsed or were too injured to continue, few of those left attempted to flee. Those that turned tail and ran were not followed. Kratos figured none of them would attempt to plunder the city by themselves. However, most of the idiots proceeded to attack recklessly, as if one of them could accomplish what the others had failed miserably at. Scoffing silently at the thought, Kratos shifted his arm a slight degree to parry a blow.

Then the world ceased to exist beneath his feet.

In the middle of the action, a change overcame his entire being. He wasn't deaf, or blind, yet all the same a switch had been flipped somewhere. A numbing sensation might be the best way to describe it, but that didn't altogether fit. It was nothingness. He could not feel the sword in his hand, the weight of his clothing, the wind on his face, or his feet planted firmly on the ground. But he could see them all- hear them all. In fact, his other senses were keener than ever. This new kind of tactile deafness stopped him in his tracks mid-step. So paralyzing was this new feeling that he was ripped from his reverie as he heard more than saw the sword tear through his leather tunic.

He swiftly finished off the offender with a perfectly placed uppercut across the shoulder. Kratos cast a wary glance about himself. That man had been the last of the bandits standing. He spotted Yuan cleaning his blade on a fallen thief's coarse shirt a ways to his right.

Feeling somehow both alive and dead, Kratos pulled off his glove and was met by the searingly fluorescent crimson of his exsphere. It was a side-effect of the crystal, then. Kratos did his best to walk it off and accustom himself to the sensation. He could function just as well, but the device hadn't acted up like this for five long years. That alone was disconcerting. If he lost any more vital functions, he was fairly certain he would no longer be able to hide it.

It was a dreadful secret of his to keep so much from Yuan, but any word of his issues might have resulted in a return trip to Tethe'alla. The _symptoms_ had been easy to live with previously- preferable even in circumstances when both food and time for rest were limited. This new- _thing_ was problematic. he needed to feel to fight effectively. If the crystal was changing again, then more issues might arise. What if the next thing he lost was even more essential? He couldn't go blind for a heightened sense of hearing, or magic capabilities.

No. A return trip to Sybak was necessary now- unavoidable.

An explanation, though, might be narrowly dodged if he could help it. He trusted Yuan with his life, but worrying the half-elf was something he'd done twice in his life. Definitely something he never desired to repeat. Kratos blanked his expression as he'd gotten so good at doing these past years and made his way over to his closest companion.

* * *

Yuan looked up as Kratos approached him. The young man's face immediately put him into a state of apprehension. One who didn't know him might think that it was a bland expression- expressing uninterest perhaps. But Yuan had learned to see more than the surface. As much as Kratos hid behind his mask, Yuan had discovered that his eyes were the truest to his emotions. He would never tell the man how expressive those wine-colored pools were, or else he might find a way to visor that as well. Then Yuan would be entirely shut out.

The Tethe'allan was thoughtful, and it looked like he was considering an unsettling matter judging by the distant and heavy-set dullness in his eyes. When he spoke it was in a serious and strangely formal tone.

"Yuan, I need to make preparations to return to Sybak."

Yuan's eyes widened at the impromptu announcement, and he was about to make a rather confused retort when his attention was caught by something even more shocking.

Kratos fumbled with his blade before successfully returning it to his sheath on the third try. Yuan had never seen the adroit swordsman fumble in his life. He didn't think there was a clumsy bone in the man's body- he'd never so much as tripped.

"Are you okay?" He asked instead, put off by the foreignness of it all. He'd seen Kratos sheath his long sword with his eyes shut, simply doing it by feel. Kratos' brow furrowed in supposed confusion, though the half-elf imagined it was mild surprise that he had caught on so quickly.

"Why do you ask?" The proposal was sidetracked as he shifted almost defensively. Yuan took a step closer to examine his face properly. He couldn't peg what it was, but behind the thick auburn locks some essential characteristic was missing.

"You're not acting like yourself." Yuan's expression hardened and he was prepared to demand answers until he saw a growing red stain at the Tethe'allan's stomach.

"Shit!" His own expression was horrified, "You're injured!" The diagonal slash across Kratos' midsection spanned the whole of his abdomen and was bleeding profusely. Kratos looked down at the cut himself.

"It appears I had a minor lapse in concentration." the man listlessly noted as Yuan forced him to take a seat on the hard-packed forest soil.

"You should've said something earlier!" Panic was rising in his voice. Pushing up his companion's shirt to inspect the damage, Yuan felt his heart stop. The cut was ghastly- not more than an inch deep, but ragged and uneven. Clearly the culprit sword had not been sharpened for some time, causing the flesh to tear viciously along a blunt edged blade. He tore a long strip of his own tunic to bind the wound, all the while putting as much pressure on as he dared. The life-giving fluid seeped through his fingers in seconds, as free-flowing as rain.

Desperation rose in his throat, suffocating him with a new fear he hadn't realized he'd had. Kratos _couldn't_ die. He wouldn't let him. Not like this, not here, not ever if he had anything to say about it.

They were brothers in everything but blood. The helplessness Yuan felt as his best friend was fading threatened to engulf him.

"Don't die, Kratos. Don't you _dare_ die on me!" Yuan's breathing was more labored than the Tethe'allan's. In fact, it appeared as if the man was scarcely breathing at all. He only knew the most basic of healing spells, but his hands were already glowing faintly with the pure white light. His first-aid was crude at best. He tightly wrapped the cloth strip over the wound and frantically tied the knot. He noted with little relief that the bleeding had slowed with his magic, and the cut had miraculously missed any vital organs as far as he could tell. The scarcity of light made it difficult to be certain.

"You need a doctor." The Sylvaranti had composed himself. Kratos had to be moved to Luin, which wasn't very far from their current location. Though, managing to move Kratos without aggravating his wound more would be challenging by himself. Evidently, the red-head had come to the same conclusion and shifted to stand.

"It's okay, I can walk." His blank tone wasn't tinged with hurt in the least, even when he tweaked his injury while standing. Yuan was quick to support him, yet it appeared as if he didn't need it. Caught between a state of awe and horror, the half-elf couldn't decide if Kratos was in shock or had a high tolerance for pain. Either way, the make-shift bandage was nearly drenched through. They had to move quickly.

* * *

Kratos followed Yuan's lead through the darkened brush with a strange effortlessness. He felt none of the pain of the injury, but all of the symptoms of extreme blood loss plagued his body. His vision was dancing in and out of focus, and his limbs were weakening. His body was not following his commands as it should.

When Yuan had pointed out the jagged wound, he had been dumbfounded. Likely he would not have noticed until his body had failed him. The thought troubled him. As soon as he was recovered enough to travel, he would need to remedy the problem. He could only hope that the Cruxis Crystal might be safely removed.

The lit streets of Luin came into sight as they rounded some thick underbrush. The moonlight and house lanterns alike reflected in the glassy stillness of the surrounding lake. Using that as their guide, they shakily found the path to the first bridge and began to cross it. Though he didn't feel the pain, Kratos knew the cut had to be bad from the gory coating of ruddy scarlet that lay in slick layers over his hand. He quickly returned it to where it was applying much needed pressure. Black spots crept in front of his eyes and he knew that he would probably black out soon.

It was peculiar how distant it made him feel- as if his mind was detached from the failing vessel that was his body. His sense of self was somewhere far above- observing yet unfeeling. Scanning his choppy field of vision, he finally laid eyes on an undersized wooden construction that he knew to be the resident healer's home. He was beginning to lean heavily on Yuan in order to maintain upright, but in an attempt to take another step, he found he could walk no further.

Then the world went black.

* * *

Astonished as Yuan was that Kratos could walk, he couldn't help but feel a lump of anxiety settle in his stomach when his friend began to stagger. When he went completely limp, the Sylvaranti was barely able to secure his grip on Kratos' shoulders before he pitched forwards onto the ground. As luck would have it, they'd pretty much made the distance. He half dragged, half carried Kratos' unconscious form to the old oak door and rapped feverishly on its surface.

"Open up! Please, it's an emergency!" He bellowed while carefully monitoring Kratos' shallow breathing and ghostly pallor.

A flustered looking man opened the door. Upon seeing the slumped over, blood-stained figure on his front step, he didn't ask any questions and admitted them right away. After hoisting Kratos inside, Yuan could do little other than watch with bated breath as the gash was cleaned and stitched and bandaged.

Only when he was certain Kratos was going to be okay, and was repeatedly assured by the doctor, Yuan allowed his mind to wander. Staring down at his hands crusted with Kratos' blood, he took a seat in the offered chair. He'd been so cemented in the present that he hadn't given any thought to _how_ it had all happened. The bandits weren't a very accomplished group of fighters. At the very least they were not nearly the worst they'd seen while with the Sylvaranti Internal Enforcement Division. Kratos hadn't even been injured since Yuan was able to snag the position after they'd first met up at Latheon Gorge.

Yuan had his share of scratches, but neither of them had come so close to death as this. The fresh mortality of his human companion was like a bucket of ice water to the head. Somehow Yuan had always thought of Kratos as superhuman- a unique being that didn't make mistakes. He learned quickly, had a flawless memory, was an incredible swordsman and now spell-caster, and yet a mob of simpletons had bested him? A lapse in concentration indeed. There was more to it than that. He'd settle for asking questions upon Kratos' awakening.

His own reaction to the injury had been alarming as well. He couldn't afford to freeze up when a life depended on him. Where had that come from? Even now, he only felt a _need_ for Kratos to be okay. For some reason he couldn't precisely lay a finger on, he'd chosen the Tethe'allan of all people to open up to. Kratos clearly had greater reservations in that field, but Yuan had seen glimpses of the good person beneath the facade. The point was that Kratos knew him the best and he liked to think he knew Kratos better than any other as well. The man was now quintessential to his life, and yet Yuan had never known how dangerous that could be until now. They were the archetype of friendship, and Yuan never wanted to picture a world where Kratos ceased to exist. Maybe it was because he modeled good intentions and open-mindedness, or because he never wanted praise for doing the right thing. In his mind, the death of Kratos would be the death of integrity, because so much of Symphonia was lacking it. The match to honor was loyalty, and that's what Yuan was.

He didn't stray from the bedside once. Long after the healer had finished his work, Yuan lay in an exhausted sleep, flaccid in his chair beside Kratos' supine figure.

* * *

Mithos shuffled his belongings around to better fit in the pack, roughly yanking out his kendama to carry instead. The garish coloring was embarrassing, but it was his only weapon, so he had to deal with it.

"Are you ready to go, Mithos?" His sister's melodic voice rang from around the corner, accompanied by footsteps. Her head popped out from behind the adjoining wall in their suite, an appraising look on her face framed by her green bangs. Apparently satisfied that he had what he needed, she nodded and slung her own bag over her shoulders and plucked up her staff from its usual location in the corner. Mithos eyed the artfully twisted wood with distaste. Why couldn't he use a staff instead? They looked so much cooler. Resigning himself to learn sword play as soon as possible, Mithos fell into step behind Martel as they left their room.

Trailing her down the stair case, Mithos could see Xilia waiting for them outside through the open window. He could hardly suppress a sigh. Why did _she_ have to come again? Martel could handle almost all of the technical work and Xilia couldn't even defend herself against the monsters they would no doubt encounter. And she was annoying.

Humans were useless. They couldn't use magic, and most couldn't even expel their chaotic mana with an attack. Which begged the question- why were they taking her along, again? Mithos held his tongue though. Last time he'd voiced such comments, Martel had lectured him on equality and discrimination. He still held that he had a valid point. The humans were most of the driving force behind the growing mana depletion along the border regions. Particularly smart humans like Xilia, that derived ways to use nature's mana instead of their own. Hence his general dislike for the woman.

They had reached the door of the inn that had become their makeshift home for the past several years. Coming and going by the research institute had become commonplace, but this was a special occasion. Today they would embark on an adventure. Mithos felt the excitement flutter in his stomach, quickly growing to replace his initial irritation. Not even Xilia could wreck a journey like this one.

The researcher's glasses were flashing in the morning sun as she greeted them.

"I hope you all have enough provisions." She adjusted the straps on her rather large backpack. "We'll be gone for at least three days, if not more." Martel smiled that smile that meant she was humoring her. Mithos almost snickered- it was very clear that Martel preferred packing light, as she always had. They borrowed what they could from the forest when they traveled. Xilia was still ignorant to the expression, despite how long they'd worked together. Some relationships grew with time, but Martel and Xilia's had never seemed to grow past the acquaintance stage. Perhaps as a researcher, Xilia was just poor with other people.

"Yes, we have enough. We should be off before the sun gets too high."Martel led the way, purposefully heading for the southern entrance of Sybak. Mithos felt a jump in his step. They hadn't left the small village for quite some time, and it was suffocating. Martel would allow him to go about town all he wanted, but there was never much aside from universities. The benefit to an intellectual city was the amount of books they had in their ample libraries. It was remarkably ironic how many shelves they had based solely on learning magic, when he'd met few casters within Sybak. Either way, he'd practiced in his spare time and was now reasonably capable when it came to magic, though he was by no means an expert.

All the better for this 'expedition'.

Martel and Xilia said they had pinpointed several specific locations that had the densest mana on the planet. His sister told him these spots practically exuded life energy. Though not quite on the scale of the Great Kharlan Tree, they controlled the flow of mana throughout the world- the balance if you will. However as the magitechnology was advancing, these places were going haywire. It seemed as though the mana flow was irregular and fluctuated by the day. Nevertheless, they needed to see what made these spaces so special.

The nearest location they could find based on a wide array of mana sensors was to the southern region. The mana in Sybak flowed towards the choppy seas that raged inside Tethe'alla's largest bay. From what they could tell, the swirling mass of natural mana centered like a storm on the outcropping of rocky shoreline. It was near impossible to predict what might lie at the heart of such an energy flux, and Mithos anxiously awaited the unveiling. Martel postulated that they could be offspring of the Great Tree, in juvenile form, but Mithos felt something more exciting stirring. Whatever it was felt more alive to him.

The uneven distribution of mana in the world was leading to instability in the local plant life, and more importantly the appearance of monsters. Hordes of them were surfacing in the dearth of equilibrium, and anyone that couldn't fight was encouraged to stay within town borders for protection.

Mithos refused to be such an insignificant, he wanted to explore and fight and discover the mysteries that Martel described to him. This was just the beginning.

He nearly cheered when they left the gray cobblestone boundaries of Sybak and were met by unadulterated woodland. He supposed it was the elven blood in him that felt so attuned to nature, because Martel was the same way. The freer air was exuberant, and he felt more and more alive as they put distance between themselves and the dull realm of study.

* * *

Martel was ecstatic to getting out the door and into the world, but her recent findings were troubling. Mana deprivation was occurring on a whole new scale- it seemed even the Great Tree was having difficulties keeping up. She'd always been taught that there was unlimited energy held within the planet, and that the Yggdrasil was the primary way for it to be fixed into mana. Mana was life.

These new weapons were sucking up the life from the soil, yanking it away from local flora and fauna to transform it into destruction. In more than one way it would crush everything if they weren't careful. Her new findings were not encouraging. Mana levels everywhere had dropped considerably. And it wasn't for lack of trying to get the world educated on the problem.

They didn't care.

She was beginning to understand that both Sylvarant and Tethe'alla would rather obliterate the world before admit defeat. Martel had always thought pride a good thing. It gave people standards, and the gall to never back down from a belief. Now she saw how it could be the downfall of everything and everyone. She kept these things to herself though. If Mithos heard her ramblings, then what might happen?

She was an optimistic person in general. Intelligence was a virtue, as was tolerance. But she couldn't tolerate this level of stupidity. Every living being had a duty to this world, and she would sooner die than give up on a way to save it. Though she couldn't be sure, a part of her suspected that this project would be the answer. The key to solving the unsolvable equation.

Mithos had broken her out of her thoughts as he broke into a run ahead, leaving her and Xilia behind in favor of scaring birds off of their perches. She chuckled shortly at his uncomplicated happiness. She often forgot that he was just a boy- of twelve no less. She trailed her fingertips along the rough bark of neighboring trunks as she let herself forget for just a moment. Xilia's silence was unusual, but welcome, and Martel let herself be overcome by the sounds of the forest. Here was so much like home. She found solace in any cluster of trees, they were soothing in their liveliness. She focused on the present.

They would need their wits about them to make it to their destination. She could already feel the monsters stirring far ahead, a darker force on her peripheries that had no sense of consciousness. From what she knew, the mass appearance of sinister creatures had no specific source. They were not even sentient, for all their flocking. That made them dangerous- especially when neither she nor Mithos were good in close combat situations. She smiled despite herself, as Mithos' golden head caught in a patch of sunlight. He felt it, too.

The mystery of the mana crisis loomed in the distance- and she wasn't going to miss out on it.

* * *

**(A/N) So that's the end of the first chapter in Part 2. I'll bet you guys know where this is going, too. Hope you liked... Review?**


	19. Chapter 19

**(A/N) Yes... A quick update! So after talking with another author about how to outline my chapters more clearly, I've got a fair amount structured out and it'll be buckets easier to write at a faster pace now. Things are also kicking into gear plot-wise, so I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Yes, yes I do own Tales of Symphonia. Ha, no seriously, I don't. What were you expecting?**

* * *

_**Chapter 19**_

* * *

Kratos slowly drifted awake- a sensation that he hadn't felt for years. It was the closest thing to sleep he had gotten in what seemed like forever, and the fuzziness wasn't entirely unwelcome. However, the dullness in his limbs reminded him of his newfound problem. Stretching his arms experimentally, he rubbed his fingers together. Still nothing.

Kratos hoisted himself to a sitting position with a quiet sigh. He'd have to find a solution as quickly as possible, but until then, he'd have to work on sight alone. Kratos swept a particularly thick section of hair from his face to properly examine his surroundings. Though the building itself was new to him, it had the air of a quaint village town, stock full of basic medical supplies. It was an infirmary of sorts, judging by the white linen covering the cot he was sitting in. When Kratos' gaze fell on the fitfully sleeping half-elf to his right, guilt pierced his gut. He remembered the injury now, and quickly looked down to examine the wound.

The gash was neatly bandaged, and he imagined stitched, but from the pallor of his skin, he figured he had lost a great deal of blood. The thick white strips covered the majority of his midsection, and were also wrapped over his left shoulder for correct support. His upper body was bare, but he still wore the remainder of his clothing from yesterday. The crimson staining was minimal on his trousers, but it reminded him of the sheer _amount _of blood he'd lost. After blacking out, it was a miracle he had lived at all- from what he knew blood loss that severe had to be treated immediately. He must have just made the cut thanks to Yuan. He was indebted yet again, this time with his life.

Kratos reexamined his friend's sleeping form anxiously. Yuan's face had the weariness of stress ingrained in the curve of his mouth and the scrunch of his eyes. He slept as if he was exhausted, yet there was no deadness to it. His breathing was shallower than normal, and his hands clenched at the arms of his chair mercilessly. Kratos had decided not to wake him, and made to get up when the halfling's eyes snapped open at the creak of the cot he lay in.

"Kratos?" Yuan had spoken without regard to their surroundings, and the Tethe'allan was happy that no one was there to overhear the short statement. They made it a habit of never using his name, no matter if they were in Sylvarant or Tethe'alla. The odds of someone recognizing and acting on it were slim, but it didn't hurt to be safe.

"Yes, Yuan?" He stood fully as he slid off the edge of the bed, spotting the bloody mass of fabric that was likely his tunic in the corner. The half-elf quickly got his bearings upon waking, and stood himself.

"What do you think you're doing, getting up like that?" The Sylvaranti had crossed his arms with a scowl fleetingly crossing his features. Apparently Yuan was given the impression that he was not in shape to move freely. Kratos' eyebrows both shot up in surprise. He had never seen Yuan's bedside manner.

"I'm well aware that the cut has been adequately bandaged for me to walk, Yuan." Now the half-elf's name was spoken patronizingly instead of the respect it had first merited. Yuan's frown deepened into the sour look he always had on when Kratos contradicted him.

"Just like you were 'well aware' of that injury for a full blown minute before you said anything, right?" Now his eyes had narrowed sharply as the phrase had cut across a nerve. Apparently the bedside manner had been short-lived.

"I must've been in shock." He was quick to conjecture, "I didn't notice right away." Kratos answered with half-sincerity, and reluctantly at that. Yuan was not appeased by the effort, though.

"Cut the bullshit, Kratos! For Mana's sake- these things don't _happen_ to you!" The escalation in volume was uncalled for in the red head's opinion, but his voice had the underlying edge of anxiety. Yuan's confrontational attitude was betrayed by the openness in his expression. Frantically searching eyes scanned him again and again. Kratos realized that the half-elf was on the verge of a fit of panic. Was that because of him?

"Evidently they do. It was better that you learned sooner or later." Kratos' voice was quieter than even he expected it to be. "I'm only human. I make mistakes." So that was what it came down to. Underneath all his pride and strength and skill, he wasn't infallible. Yuan's brow creased in a sort of resigned understanding.

"So there's nothing more? There's no reason _they_ beat you other than you '_made a mistake'_?" The shift was tangible. He was back to being the ordinary, composed Yuan that kept trying to slip through Kratos' fortified barriers. They wouldn't fail this time, though, not until the matter was resolved. If anything, this incident proved to Kratos that telling Yuan would be a worse idea than he had previously thought.

"I feel the need to mention that they did _not_ 'beat me', as you put it. They were all on the ground long before I collapsed." It may have been petty, but he had pride he had to maintain even in this dire circumstance.

"You didn't answer me." Yuan had gotten just as good at directing questions as Kratos had gotten at avoiding them. Paired together, they had quite the dance of words.

"Yes." Kratos made eye contact with Yuan's own teal orbs, meeting only a revitalized layer of disbelief. _'This isn't over'_, the expression said, and Kratos felt the disappointment swell in his chest when the Sylvaranti wouldn't buy his not-so-blatant lie.

Of course that couldn't be the end of it.

* * *

Yuan was sure his face fell when Kratos refused to open up. They'd been through so much together, yet he wasn't even _trusted_. After all that the Tethe'allan meant to him, he was not let in at all. The sense of betrayal was stronger than he would've liked to admit. He didn't push further. It was clear he wouldn't get much from the exceedingly blank look on his companion's face. If he could just _read_ him, like he knew Kratos could read himself, everything might be easier.

When the swordsman was sufficiently prepared to leave, donning one of his spare tunics from their pack, they decided they would not overstay their welcome at the healer's home. The man had returned periodically throughout the night to check up on their mutual patient, and he was likely sleeping a well-earned rest into the day. Kratos wrote a brief note of gratitude and left a generous amount of gald to cover the costs before they left. At long last, the wooden door was swung upon its rusty hinges and they stepped into the outdoors.

Yuan was still remarkably tired from the prior day, but the morning sun was spirited and invigorating to his drooping eyelids. He'd traveled on less sleep before, so it would be no issue he couldn't handle. Assuming they were traveling, that is.

"So, are we off to Tethe'alla, then?" He kept his tone casual, though he was itching to do more than ask questions. He'd much rather demand some goddamn answers. If he resorted to that, it was likely Kratos would just close up like an oyster and leave him behind. That knowledge was the only thing keeping him amicable around his unpredictably cryptic companion. He'd rather tag along than never know. Kratos had trained a curious look on him.

"Excuse me?" It was a surprised statement- not an offended one, so Yuan continued.

"You said something yesterday about needing to return to Sybak." The _'before you almost died'_ went unmentioned, yet it was still heard by both parties as loud as if Yuan had said it. Kratos' expression was reined into one of understanding- though Yuan was strangely struck by how off his guard Kratos was. He was thinking pretty hard about something, the half-elf concluded, to be put off by something he'd already said. Kratos made a sound of affirmation, though.

"I need to return to the research facility there in order to see about getting the exsphere removed." Yuan blinked, foreign to the notion that it should be removed at all. Though there was no clear indicator, he got the sense that Kratos was choosing his words carefully.

"But it makes you faster, and stronger, right?" They had fallen into an easy walk as they strolled through the cleanly paved streets of Luin. In unspoken habit, they set course for the market as was custom whenever they came across cities. Restocking was something that had become routine enough to never warrant conversation. Again, the pause before Kratos spoke was noticeably longer.

"Theoretically," he began, "but as of late it seems to be getting warmer. I'd rather have it removed if there is a malfunction of sorts causing the minor discomfort." Yuan cocked his head to the side as the idea rolled about in his head. It sounded wrong, but nevertheless he couldn't find anything intrinsically _incorrect_ with the idea of a dysfunctional exsphere. It was the first he'd heard of such things.

"You can't take it off yourself?" This was harmless prodding on his part, not enough to cause a shutdown of the man's social demeanor. Kratos shook his head, auburn wisps shifting and falling out of his face in the process of the movement.

"No. It may be possible, but it would be stupid of me to attempt such a thing." he lifted up his left hand as if contemplating what lay beneath his glove. "If exspheres truly do manipulate mana in the manner we have come to believe, incorrectly removing one could mean removal of all or part of one's mana from their body as well." Yuan could feel what Kratos meant. The mana concentration in his hand was higher than that of the rest of his body. The power was undeniable now, within Kratos, but the exsphere seemed a force of its own.

They had reached the main shop that served as Luin's grocery and provisions store. It was a small establishment- easily blending with the other simple oak homes and shop fronts, but only distinguished by the hanging sign above that dubbed it very simply 'Supply Store'. That was Luin in a nutshell, though- very simplistic and small-scaled, but picturesque on the lake because of it. Yuan liked it here for that reason.

Yuan adjusted his cape slightly upon their entrance to the store, reminded of the charm by the little bell that rang when the door was opened. It was as if their daring journey was preceeded by an eerie calm. The pleasantness here would contrast strikingly with the border region through which they would have to cross.

Kratos purchased several kinds of gels and food provisions before Yuan had finished thinking through the swiftly drawn up plan of which he knew not the slightest how they might proceed. They would have to either pass through Asgard or Ossa Trail in order to avoid the worst of the conflict. Being only two people, they could probably manage to slip through without too much difficulty.

He'd rather not pass through Asgard unless it was a last resort, though.

* * *

Mithos had quickly grown to love traveling. The first half of the day had been a breezy stroll, but Martel assured him that he needed to stay prepared for monsters. He could feel them stirring, but little else. Monsters had an odd quality to their mana signatures; it was a kind of fuzzy omnipresence that he couldn't pinpoint. Not like humans or elves at all, they had the impulsive thought processes that made journeying through such a region hit or miss. They may run into monsters, but just as likely they could slip through unnoticed.

Mithos didn't want to wish bad luck upon them, but he was silently wishing they could run into a couple. Just for kicks, he told himself, but what kind of adventure would it be without battle?

Their path had taken them into a deeply forested area, spotted with the occasional clearing and thickly vegetated with enormous tree trunks and underlying brush. It was pleasant to travel due to the gentle downhill slant to the ground and nothing big to obstruct their steps. The tree trunks made visibility somewhat limited and far off to the right the ground dropped away in a sort of precipice.

Mithos had zoned out since Xilia and Martel begun talking. Everything out of the human's mouth was 'How great would it be if we could-' or 'the impact of such a finding could-'. So many 'coulds' that Mithos begun to wonder if she had ever heard the word 'should'. What if she _shouldn't_ meddle with the balance of the world? Martel was encouraging the thoughtless behavior with her own excited speculations on what may lie ahead. She was different, though. Mithos had never been able to fault her with anything- her purity was unmatched. Her intentions were mostly fueled by curiosity and her will to help things. And people, Mithos hated to admit. They didn't always deserve her help, but she was always willing to give it.

Mithos wished he could be like her, but he always saw the errors in human nature. He could never be so trusting to one of them. Not after the repeated wrongs they had unjustly thrust upon the both of them. Scowls and sneers were always tossed their way for just being alive. Xilia can cover it up well, but deep down he knows that she feels the same way. At first it was subtle nudges, people bumping into him when he was in the streets running around like other children. Then the name-calling would start before he even knew what they meant by it. Few half-elves had lived in Yggdrasil aside from his sister. Martel stayed off of the streets, but he had seen the worst of it by age six. Since then he had always been careful.

His contemplations of things past and future ended abruptly as Martel's smile dropped and she raised her staff defensively.

"Xilia, get behind us." she hissed warningly, a hand coming up to brace Mithos' shoulder and position him in front of Xilia's right side. "Mithos, get ready. They're coming." Any apprehension on the blonde boy's face was eradicated and replaced with an inappropriate look of absolute glee.

"Wha- really?" He swung his kendama experimentally and trained his eyes ahead. He felt them coming, too. Easily three creatures of dark origins were approaching now close enough to tell that they would be upon them soon.

"They're drawn to the denser mana in the region." Martel answered, already beginning a light spell to inflict when they came into view. The untainted white light splaying from her casting circle danced and intensified as the quiet words were chanted. Mithos took his cue and focused his mana.

He shut his eyes briefly, expanding his senses to feel as much as possible. It appeared they were electrically based beings if he had to pick one element based off of their mana's flickering and jittery cycles. Earth magic would do best to counter them.

Mithos flicked his wrist rhythmically, expertly catching and tossing the sphere within his kendama. The device was given all of his attention- his energy pooled into it and he concentrated as the words came automatically to his lips. Just as the spell was coming to fruition, he saw the first of the wolves break into a run.

The beings were swift and animal-like, yet they weren't true wolves. These were odd hybrids, half dark energy, half physical. They were easily twice the size of an ordinary dog, but the crackling and snapping sounds their paws emitted were most certainly magical. Electrical sparks flew in a purplish glow from their dangerously clawed feet, and still did nothing to take away from the lethal looking incisors that they had bared into a vicious snarl. Three had approached in a circling, pack-like maneuver that felt predatorial. Not hesitating a moment longer, Mithos released his spell beneath one of the targets.

"Stone Blast!" The pent-up magic twisted through the earth and crushed upwards with a vengeance, manifesting itself into a spiked pillar of unforgiving stone. The demon-wolf yelped in surprise as it was pierced and knocked airborne, dissipating into light and dust as it was sent back to the gates of Niflheim. Mentally congratulating himself on his aim, Mithos did not wait to begin his next enchantment.

Martel had finished her spell as well, casting an effective Photon on the infuriated monster that had come dangerously close to their tightly formed triangle of people. The blinding flash of illumination enclosed itself around the creature and collapsed into pinpricks of needle-thin beams of light, eliminating the second threat.

However, spell-casting was limited in the respect of remaining stationary, whereas the wolves had speed and freedom of movement on their side. The last of the attackers had bared its teeth and closed in while Mithos and Martel frantically attempted to conclude their spells.

Mithos realized it wasn't going to work in time- the demon was already getting close enough to lunge. Quickly, he dropped his spell in favor of a simpler one. It would be ineffective, but if it could buy Martel time, it might work.

"Fireball!" the rudimentary attack came as expected and landed a deliberate hit on the wolf's snout. Unfortunately, that meant he had its attention. The monster sprung at him, clearly pissed off, and Mithos was barely able to slip to the side. The claws had come so close to his face he could feel the air charged with electricity that vibrated around them. He aimed for the nearest obstacle to skid behind, hearing the wolf twist behind him to take part in a likely very short chase.

Adrenaline pumping through him, Mithos absently recognized Martel's spell finishing as he ducked frantically around the thick tree trunk and another Photon finished off the raging beast that nearly killed him. He peered around to watch in fascination as the menacing grey coil of muscle was reduced to dust by mere light, blasting it to oblivion and leaving a strange quietness to take its place.

"Are you okay?" Martel rushed to his side like a mother hen, checking him for scratches and encircling him in a warm hug when the search came up with nothing. They were both breathing heavily from the strain of magic and suspense.

"Yea." Mithos felt the grin come to his face instantaneously, "Did you see me dodge that?" His heart was still pumping unnaturally fast, but the thrill of battle had not let go of it yet.

"Yes, Mithos, I saw it." Martel hadn't released him from the hug, and he could feel the vibrations of her voice over her own elevated pulse. "I'd rather you not worry me like that, though." she scolded halfheartedly.

"I was buying you time!" he whined back just as feebly. Both of them knew as much, but it didn't ease Martel's mind as much as she'd hoped. Perhaps it would've been better to hire a mercenary to accompany them to ensure such circumstances never arose. Either way it was too late now, as far as they'd made it.

"I know." She pulled away to meet his luminous blue eyes with a faint smile. Her attention was drawn to a wide-eyed Xilia who had been watching their interaction silently.

"You can really fight." she said with some surprise, which rubbed Mithos the wrong way.

"Of course we can fight! We have to, we're half-elves!" He averted his gaze from the human with distaste. Did she think he was useless?

"No, I just- thanks, I guess." At this Mithos suspiciously met her bespectacled stare. Since when was the chatty researcher _ever_ at a loss for words? He'd take what he could get, then. Martel smiled brightly at the two of them for some reason he couldn't fathom.

"We should keep moving, I think the forest ends somewhere up ahead in favor of grassland." Martel pointed them in the right direction, and sure enough Mithos saw a break in the previously unending trees. From what he could tell, the light was getting greyer between bouts of branches, and he wanted a better look. Evening should still be an hour or two off.

Their pace increased perceptively in anticipation of a flatter territory and better view of their destination. Pretty soon, Mithos had just decided to run ahead for a look and he crashed boisterously through the periphery of the woods. Eyes widening, he was stopped in his tracks until Martel and Xilia caught up with him.

"What is it?" Xilia had found her voice again, and she pushed up her glasses to get a clearer image.

On the horizon, a dilapidated grey structure pressed low to the ground, surrounded by grassy fields and low hills. The thing that really captured their attention was the swirling and rolling mass of dark grey thunder clouds twirling around restlessly. The center of the storm appeared to be the same structure, the present target of crackling arcs of lightning and echoing rumbles of thunder. It was as if the building was the source of the tremendous storm.

* * *

Kratos and Yuan walked peacefully through the lightly wooded grasslands rimming the desert of Triet. Walking at a brisk pace in silence was their habit, Kratos reflected, though he knew it was not one Yuan enjoyed. Feeling bad enough as it was in deceiving his closest companion, Kratos cleared his throat almost ineptly.

"Yuan, am I right in assuming we aim to travel through Ossa Trail?" A clumsy excuse for discussion, nevertheless, yet he had to be careful approaching a touchy topic. Yuan's brow furrowed in near confusion, as if to say 'Kratos is initiating pointless conversation? What planet is this?' and Kratos had almost decided to just roll his eyes and shut up again before Yuan answered.

"Obviously. You knew that, so why ask?" Yuan's exterior was colder than he remembered, likely due to their earlier chat. Kratos kept his eyes pinned ahead, occasionally glancing down to make sure he was placing his feet correctly and avoiding the rough dips in the gravelly soil.

"I was curious as to the reason we were avoiding Asgard." He didn't mean to be so blunt about it, but it had turned out that way anyways. "It would've been faster from our location in Luin to simply cut through the border there. This path roves further north than was necessary." Yuan had stiffened to his side and mumbled something incoherently. Kratos waited for a proper answer patiently while they continued to transverse the barren country-side. This close to the sands of the desert meant poor nutrients for plant life, but enough to support wiry and hearty fauna. It gave a tougher appearance to the chaparral, as if surviving was infinitely more work here than elsewhere. Finally, Yuan sighed as if to speak.

"I told you before that my elven mother lives in Asgard." Kratos had thought as much, but he didn't voice it. "I'd rather not run into her face-to-face. It's been a long time since we've last seen each other." His tone was tight and private- almost strained with the given topic. Kratos wondered if that was how he always sounded to Yuan.

"It's fine." Kratos cut him off. He just needed to know that it was no oversight on Yuan's part. "That's your business. You don't need to tell me." They all had their secrets, and he would not partake in the hypocrisy that would be rooting out Yuan's while he kept quiet about his own. Something about his statement made Yuan cross, though, the half-elf had twisted to point an annoyed glare at him.

"So you don't care?" Teal eyebrows rose dauntingly. "See, I thought that we were friends and _knew_ each other. But-" a harsh gesture later landed him in the next sentence, "- it's as if you don't want to know me, and you don't want me to know you. I don't get that." Frustration evident in the timbre of his voice, he turned his head sharply. "You're _supposed_ to care." Questioning russet eyes met the halfling's hurt glare.

"Why do you think I don't care?" Kratos found himself asking, though he knew the train of thought would end with something he couldn't answer truthfully.

"I would want to know if I was in your place, but you put it to the back of your mind in two seconds- not a second thought on my troubles at all. I think that means that this is a one-sided friendship then." Stored up spite and betrayal were strung into the words that were so sharp they cut. Kratos felt justly accused and guiltily broke eye contact.

"Yuan, you're the only one I trust here." He could feel the calculating look the half-elf was boring into him and reluctantly continued, "You know who I am, meaning you have the power to turn me in with a few words. I stayed with you because I wanted to- because you're the closest friend I've ever had, not because it was the safest decision or anything of the sort. It's riskier here than if I stayed in Tethe'alla- we're goddamn _enemies_ for heaven's sake. Yet, you follow me without question and I'd do the exact same for you. I'm affording you the same privilege you gave me when you decided to come with me to Sybak. I don't ask to respect your privacy- _not_ because I don't care." A sigh escaped his lips as he focused on the tips of his shoes, silently marveling at how strange it felt to not feel the ground beneath his feet. Quiet had fallen upon the two after the argument closed and Yuan seemed to be mulling over his response.

Kratos felt the pressure lift from his shoulders as the tension dissipated back into their easy-going calm. He'd never said such things, and he couldn't help but feel that he'd somehow said them incorrectly. Apparently the awkward motion had been accepted, because their steps never stalled until one could see the thin range of mountains ahead that separated Sylvarant from Tethe'alla. Ossa Trail cut through the very valley they were headed for, but their progress would be arrested by the fall of night.

Already the sky was darkening as the sun was falling behind them. Kratos knew he'd need to stop with Yuan for camp soon, and from what he could see and hear, a strident wind was pooling across the grasses, rippling in waves and tugging at their hair. It would be best to be in the shelter of the mountains for the night. Ossa Trail was lightly guarded on both sides, so straying a bit south of the outpost could work smoothly in their favor to shorten the trip once they crossed over.

As he adjusted their own path to swing southward the slightest bit, Kratos barely caught Yuan's next words.

"I'm sorry." He murmured, the words ripped away by the intensifying winds. The corner of Kratos' mouth twitched upwards at the small statement.

He was forgiven.

* * *

**(A/N) There you go, my faithful followers- hopefully I'll get another out soon. As usual criticisms/typo notification is welcome. Thanx for reading xD**


	20. Chapter 20

**(A/N) Hello all! I'm on fire right now- I think it's just 'cuz I really don't want school to start. Another quick update, this one dedicated to my sister because it's her birthday today! Happy Birthday!** **Anyways, enjoy, and drop me a review if you want!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Namco, then I would know there was a Tales of Xillia ahead of time, and not named my OC Xilia by complete coincidence...*ugh facepalm***

* * *

_**Chapter 20**_

* * *

Kratos tightened the straps on the light pack that made up the brunt of their possessions. Their camp had been more of a soft patch of grass sheltered in shrubs than a true lean-to. No campfire could be lit due to proximity with both Sylvaranti and Tethe'allan forces this close to the border, nor should one have been. The territory was not as lush as he had imagined it. Yuan spoke of Ossa Trail as a peaceful mountain retreat, not this desolate, browning region with brittle, dried-up grasses and thinning trees. It was as if no rain had reached these areas all season, as if the land was being dissolved into the desert just beyond the edge of the mountains. A fire would surely catch and destroy what life there was left here.

Yuan had woken early enough to view the sky lighten even though the sunrise was blocked by the mountains looming to the east. He was strangely solemn this morning, at least to Kratos' eye. The halfling knelt down and brushed his hand through the squashed down grass he'd been sleeping on, ruffling the crackling brush enough to erase his presence. Their system was simple like that- use little, leave nothing.

Yuan gave the area a final sweep of his eyes, satisfied there was no trace of them before he turned to Kratos with a melancholy set to his features.

"Do you suppose the war did this?" The tilt of his head suggested little, but Kratos knew easily enough what he was talking about.

"The mana weapons sap vast regions of life's energy. It's likely the only possibility aside from drought." Kratos let his eyes fall on the dying vegetation. Yuan had seen it before this change had revamped the entire mountainside. The contrast must have been shocking. Sighing, the half-elf adjusted his gauntlets and started off in their desired direction.

The funny thing about it was how perfectly they fit the situation. To travel through both sides of Ossa Trail single-handedly would be a near impossible feat. Together, though, a Sylvaranti and a Tethe'allan might slip through with knowledge of tactics of both parties. Kratos felt his mouth twitch up into an ironic smirk.

The pathway they'd have to cross through was relatively narrow in comparison to the rest of the chain of mountains- the valley was steep sided like an elevated pathway with walls on either side. Yuan had informed him of Sylvaranti patrol details, and he hoped that Tethe'alla followed their same protocols from so many years ago. Even if they had changed, inherent behaviors usually didn't, and Tethe'allans loved groups of three or four, whereas Sylvaranti preferred border line enforcement.

At the moment, they were circumnavigating the Sylvaranti line by passing as close to the mountainside as possible, coming from the south. Sneaking expertly through one of the only holes in the Sylvaranti defense would be easier than anticipating what lay on the other side, though.

Passing without a hitch between the dying trunks of once exotic trees and not once encountering a Sylvaranti soldier was near miraculous, in Kratos' opinion. The trail curved like a snake through the confines of the valley, a rocky and grassy incline that passed up and between the two giants on either side. Quick and quiet, they both made good time and were well within the shelter of the neutral mountainside by late morning. Despite the lingering scent of decay and death, Kratos could pick up the hum of cicadas and twitter of birds. The land was not past saving just yet.

He was immediately put on his guard by the sound of jovial voices in the distance- sounds no normal human would be able to pick up. Just as he'd thought, a group of four guards were doing their customary run-through of the Tethe'allan side of the trail- probably a circling and meandering route that was checked off every half hour or so. When Yuan had perked up to his side, he knew the half-elf had heard the sound of humans coming.

"So unprofessional," he heard Yuan mutter at the volume of the supposed border guards.

Being as central as they were in the heart of Ossa Trail, Kratos doubted the voices would dare come in this far, for fear of instigating a skirmish with Sylvaranti forces participating in similar patrols. They both held their ground quietly listening to the faceless voices that steadily grew louder. Several minutes later, Kratos could make out the words, apparently consisting of trivial gossip.

"So the trial will finally be held after all these years." one of them proclaimed cheerily.

"I wonder why they waited so long," another piped in, "it was such a big incident- it set us back a full year restocking mortars. You'd think he'd a been taken care of immediately." Kratos felt his ears prick up. They couldn't have been discussing what it sounded like they were, could they?

"You know how prisoner-of-war trials go." the first one explained drily, "they try to get as much as possible out of them before they try them, and then a case that big has tons of wait time before they can get the military counsel free to weigh in on the sentencing." Kratos was thoroughly confused. Since when was there a military counsel? Laughter kept him tuned into their conversation, though.

"Is there any other sentence but death?" The rhetorical question held the soldiers at bay, but now they were close enough to discern footsteps heavily crushing gravel and snapping brittle twigs. Kratos had begun to think that he may have underestimated their reach into the trail, when his doubts were relieved by the steps momentarily pausing before receding to the right. He heard Yuan let out a breath as his own fears were put at ease.

Waiting a brief moment longer to ensure they wouldn't be detected, Kratos signaled Yuan to follow him as they lightly crept down the trail, in a way tailing the last batch of guards out to avoid the next group. If all went as planned, they'd clear out with no interaction whatsoever. Their luck had held thus far, and officially, they were now within the confines of Tethe'alla.

The conversation had been unsettling nevertheless, and Kratos found his mind drifting with the possibilities. It sounded as if they were talking about the Latheon Gorge incident he had regrettably been the cause of- yet they had never caught him. So either it was a separate occasion, or there was an innocent on trial for his own actions. Kratos wouldn't prefer either of those situations, but he put the thoughts on the backburner while they continued following the trail. He couldn't afford to lose focus in here of all places.

Yuan tread lightly behind him, the soft footfalls reassuring him of his speed. The mountains were dropping away to either side, and their rocky slope was descending towards the land below- meaning they had nearly made it through the treacherous border region.

When Kratos heard the soldiers ahead begin to grow louder again, he checked his pace. They were around a curve of the path, the bend putting a much needed rock ledge between them. Slowing to a halt, his heart stopped when they continued to come closer- they had _turned around_. Inwardly swearing profusely and motioning for Yuan to retreat, he realized the effort was futile. They were on a relatively straight, albeit bumpy stretch of path with no grasses to slip under or trees to perch in. The grayish stone was the unforgiving background- not a place to hide or scale to avoid detection.

The Tethe'allan guard must've switched from looping patrols to overlapping segments. It was a smarter system, but he cursed his luck for this being the way he'd find out. The four would be rounding the corner at any moment, so he readied his sword, and absently noted Yuan doing the same from the glow of green light that drifted across the edge of his vision.

He hadn't noticed while traveling, but the bandages dressing his wound must've been tighter than he expected, because his stance was hindered by the tug of the encircling strands of white. Perhaps the strain on his body would be too much; there was no way of telling in his current position. Ignoring the murmurs of paranoia that the thought invoked, he indiscriminately struck the first soldier to cross the threshold across the jaw. The helmetless man fell limply backwards onto the gravelly road, but the others were not caught standing for long. Yuan had managed to sweep the legs out from the second with the flat of his blade, but by that time, the two remaining had composed themselves.

A yell of surprise escaped the shorter of the two, and the hardy armor he wore clanked as he backpedalled once and drew his short sword. His reflexes saved him from being cut at the knees as he dipped the metal down to block the would-be-crippling blow. Kratos swiftly countered with a maneuver to the left and a kick to the man's side before either of their swords was free. As he fell, the redhead slammed the butt of his hilt onto his head- knocking him out.

The last knew he was outmatched by far, but there was not retreat option as Yuan had twisted his body to cover the way the troops had come from. The moment was long and still as the man kept a barely trembling hold on his blade. Kratos and Yuan had left the choice up to him, but they always made the same choice- whether it be for honor, obligation, or stupidity, it varied. The erratic breathing of the stranger sped up, and he made his decision in a heartbeat.

He called out loudly as he charged Kratos, sword held high and hasty in his form. The Tethe'allan swung the weapon across his body wildly, something Kratos easily dodged by jumping to the side as Yuan finished him off from behind.

The entire fight lasted only the briefest of minutes, yet Kratos had felt as if they'd wasted too much time already. Sheathing his weapon, they were off again without another word. They would need to clear the remainder of the trail before the unconscious forms were discovered by the next patrol. The ground had easier footing, though, and more foliage to cover them than the previous territory, so they were in the clear without further intervention.

Only when they had put a considerable distance between themselves and the border did Yuan slow his pace and audibly exhale.

"A pleasant welcome back into the arms of Tethe'alla." He chuckled darkly, posture relaxing with the first spoken words in over an hour.

"Indeed." Kratos muttered in return, eyeing the terrain with a calculated gaze. If they curved northwards with a generous berth around Meltokio, they would cross through a slim section of woodland before reaching Sybak. If they kept up their lightning pace of travel, they might even make it before the day was through. That was hard for him to discern exactly, though, as the forests to their south were wrapped tightly in the darkness of a ferocious thunderstorm that raged off in the distance. The tendrils of clouds had clawed their way to obscure the majority of the sky, despite the fact that the weather was perfectly pleasant to the northern side. His musings on the weather and their exact route were cut off by an annoyed nudge from Yuan.

"Did you hear me?" Had he zoned out? Apparently so, Kratos decided with astonishment. How uncharacteristic of him. Shaking his head 'no' to the half-elf resulted in a furrowed brow and stern expression.

"I asked if you were doing okay. You still look pale, and this traveling probably isn't doing you any good." Kratos shook off his concern like water.

"It's fine," his body had been holding up throughout the journey up until this point, "though I do find the bandages restrictive." Kratos added as he remembered the concise battle. Apparently that appeased Yuan to some degree, because his face shifted from apprehensive to one of lightly scolding amusement.

"That's too bad," his shoulder mockingly bumped Kratos', "considering you'll be needing them for quite some time." At Kratos' near sulking frown, Yuan laughed before they sunk into silence yet again. Combined, the proximity with his hometown and the current circumstances were making him more detached than was usual- something duly noted by the half-elf to his side. It was reassuring to both him and Yuan that he could still act like himself.

The world had a surreal quality of ancient familiarity to him. His memories still seemed fresh in this place, the woods both the same and different. Five years wasn't long for a tree, yet it appeared as if there were less of them. No one characteristic gave it away, but the land was sickly and almost quiet. On the whole it felt like it was at its breaking point, just one more straw to push the area could smash it under a crushing load that had built up in his absence.

Keeping what Yuan obviously picked up on as well unsaid, Kratos found the path on auto pilot. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but wonder if Nyx was in the palace of Meltokio as he walked. A short left turn could take him back there to know for sure. But he didn't let himself dwell on that- he still wasn't sure how he stood with the Tethe'allan government now of all times, or if they even knew he was alive. He had to focus on one objective at a time, or his mind would be spread so thin that nothing would turn out the way he intended. Focusing his entirety on Sybak was not as difficult as he expected.

* * *

Mithos found himself stepping closer to Martel as they neared the construct on the grassy plain. Each crack of lightning was thrilling in a way, but his qualms lay in his knowledge of thunderstorms. Martel was continuously streaming assurances that they would not be fried to a crisp, but eventually even she slowed to a stop when the flashing arcs mercilessly rained down in a flurry of strikes between themselves and their destination.

"This isn't safe." She muttered thoughtfully, as they sat just out of reach of the rumbling center of the storm. At least the lightning was confined to the relatively small region, Mithos rationalized. The waist high grasses were brittle and washed out as it melded with the grey hue of the tempest in the distance. He nervously snapped the blades in half, bending and peeling the strands apart absentmindedly as he thought of a solution. Xilia stood to his left and was holding her chin while examining the flashes of light that barred their entrance to whatever held the answer to all of their questions.

"As the territory is so flat, it would appear proceeding further would be impossible without casualties." Martel nodded with a creased brow.

"But we can't give up after coming this far already, from what I know, it's almost always like this here." Mithos tore up another fistful of grass and cocked his head to the side.

"Lightning will always strike the tallest thing first, right?" Xilia nodded, tearing her gaze away from the building ahead to meet his eyes. He could see the arcs of the storm flash in her glasses, and her next words were drowned out by a roar of thunder.

"That's why we can't go any further without almost surely getting struck." Mithos caught the tail end of the statement and pieced it together for himself.

"So if there was something much taller than both us and that building over there, we could get in no problem." his supposition was met with nods of confirmation. Face lighting up, he yanked out his kendama and shut his eyes. Pinpointing the exact location he wanted to focus on was easy because there was nothing to block the flow of mana in the form of trees or animals. Chanting quickly and with as much articulation as he could at that speed, Mithos could see the light spring up around him in the elaborate shape of an intermediate spell circle, flattening the surrounding grass with a gust of downwards wind.

"What's he doing?" he could hear the human researcher ask his sister. Evidently, Martel had picked up on his plan, because he could hear the smile in her voice when she answered despite the fact he was fully concentrated on one of his strongest spells.

"He found the solution." The magic had reached its apex, and Mithos funneled it cleanly into the earth at his feet, directing it to his intended location smoothly.

"Stalagmite!" He called as the mana released into the tallest pillar of stone he could muster ripping from the ground upwards. The power coursed through him as he heard the soil and bedrock crackle with the crashing of lightning a short ways away. The circle faded, and he immediately felt tiredness seep into his limbs and weigh him down like so many rocks piled into his bag. Despite the freshness of waking not long ago and packing up camp, he felt his eyelids drooping to half-mast. His magic had never been pushed that far before, but he couldn't say he wasn't pleased with the results.

Martel tugged him to her side in a half-hug. A proud smile graced her beautiful features, and she gestured to his towering spike of stone, raw and unpolished yet a secure structure nevertheless.

"It works, Mithos!" the lightning had been drawn to the single fluctuation in the landscape almost immediately. The top of the stalagmite acted like a lightning rod in the cities- a path of least resistance for the coursing electricity to run itself into the ground. The echoes of rolling thunder remained constant, but no longer a threat to their livelihood. "I'd say it's safe to move forwards, now!" Martel rubbed his shoulder supportively and set off on her march to the mysterious building.

Mithos knew a smile was tugging at his lips, but he felt the stare on his back after a short while. Turning to see the human once again sizing him up, he didn't like the calculating gaze she was pinning on him. It wasn't as if he'd grown wings or a tail or anything. He hated the feeling of alienation, but he wasn't sure that was what it was. He couldn't peg the emotion that drove it, but she averted her glance as soon as he narrowed his own.

* * *

Xilia felt a mix of fear and awe at the power Mithos wielded as such a young boy. It was earth-shattering and simply too much for a person to handle. How could so much energy pour through one little body? It scared her how strong these two seemingly innocuous half-elves were. How could she sit here completely defenseless when they held the destructive forces of nature in their hands?

They neared the archaic stone structure that had been subject to strike after strike of lightning, but it appeared perfectly intact. When they were close enough to read the engravings above the pillars, she was shocked to realize that she couldn't translate the language. She was fluent in several forms of ancient tongue, but perhaps this one was even older than the others. Getting over her initial start, she could see some minute familiarity in the gracefully twisted characters chiseled into the smooth grey rock. One such character looked uncannily familiar to her eldest language's figure for lightning- or electrical power. And another could have been the root of the character for energy- or better yet _mana_.

"I can't read all of this, but I think it has something to do with lightning and mana- like a primordial temple of sorts." Xilia conjectured while pushing up the bridge of her spectacles and swiping some brown bangs away from her eyes. Martel's eyes widened in anticipation as they all continued to the cavernous entrance, doorless and dark, but even so a hallway crafted out of the same purplish grey stone and brick.

"It would make sense for older civilizations to create shrines of sorts in such areas with higher mana densities. To a culture with little in the ways of magitechnology, it would be like a flux of life, lush and vibrant in better times. It might even be seen as sacred." Martel added in, while trailing her hands across the cool stone of the pillars they were passing. Reaching the front, Xilia found that the temple must also continue underground, due to a decreased slope in the roof.

"It's bigger than it looks," Mithos beat her to the statement, eyeing how the pathway dipped low and deep, extending far below ground level. Their feet echoed softly amidst the tumult of thunder on the stone, but none stalled in their curious march. Only when the dimness was periodically interrupted by the bleak squares of light pouring from what must be skylights, could they see each other's faces clearly. Here and there water trickled down steadily from past rains, pooling on the floor and rippling as feet splashed lightly in the puddles. The hallway was expanding rapidly, but pathways branched off as well to either side.

"What even is this place?" she heard the boy question at the magnitude of the room. She couldn't keep her eyes from wandering up and down the walls, ornately constructed and reinforced with polycarbonate in beautiful depictions of a people's history. The ceiling was also a marvel, and she craned her neck upwards to see the beams crisscrossing the enormous space above their heads. It was a magnificent building, probably the crowning jewel of an entire culture.

Martel lit up the circlet of her staff with a simple light spell, casting pure white glow around them and shifting all of the dark shadows into a better light. Her face lit so brightly was one of elated wonder, but she turned to Xilia with a purposeful look.

"Do you have the mana sensor? It might be best to use that to navigate this place. Though I could wander these halls all day, we need to find the exact center before we study the rest of it." Xilia nodded once and slid her backpack off of her shoulders to better access the flap. She dug around briefly in the coarse canvas before slipping out the fortified and adapted mana signature device.

"Here," she handed it to Martel, still enraptured with their surroundings despite the distinct smell of dampness and moss that grew where the water dripped down the walls. The machine whirred to life with a few button presses, and Martel turned her head to look down the right passage.

"It looks like it's that way." She inclined her head and her green locks billowed behind her as they all followed her lead and the bobbing brightness that was her staff.

"Hey Sis?" Mithos had never ceased his grip on his kendama and now held it in front of him defensively, "Do you think there are any monsters in here? I can't really tell." Martel pursed her lips for a moment and nodded.

"I'm fairly certain a few are lurking in here, it's an excellent form of shelter for monsters, dark and dank. Stay on your guard." Xilia felt herself tense at the words, she had hoped they were safe within the confines of the temple, but she supposed the abandoned quality detracted from the overall security. Perhaps when she returned to Sybak she should equip an exsphere and see if that might better her self-defense. At the moment, she was helpless and it worried her. Then again, an exsphere may or may not help her at all. Didn't you need some innate skills to begin with?

She was no longer sure. Her research into that field had been cut off as soon as Daisuke disappeared. She was put on a number of other projects almost immediately, and exspheres were forgotten. Who needed stronger soldiers when you could create stronger machines that easily replaced a thousand men? The government had been pushing all forms of magitechnology in weapons when they had finally broken the nature barrier.

Now that the military counsel had been formed and reduced the monarch to little more than a figurehead, all resources were pooled into the war effort. They were making a difference, too. All of a sudden, Tethe'alla was winning the war, pushing back the Sylvaranti until an enormous act of espionage landed Sylvarant with the science to build their own weapons. The escalation evened out in the end, but casualties were higher now than any earlier point in the past hundred years.

Either way, she wouldn't be embarking on too many of these types of journeys in the future, so an exsphere was out of the question. It was a dead field of study, and she was shocked that the notion even crossed her mind.

Instead, she trailed behind the halfling siblings, listening attentively and losing track of the turns they completed on an increasingly narrowing chamber. The temple really was vast, but what was its purpose?

* * *

Kratos and Yuan had made it to the university district without any more trouble. Now they could easily see the sun, directly ahead signaling early afternoon. Kratos heard Yuan sigh quietly at the lack of security around the entrance. The dull buildings were unchanged and low to the ground as always, and Kratos couldn't help but remember five years prior.

"Do you remember when we escaped here?" Yuan had read his thoughts and traced the pathways fondly with his eyes. Kratos hummed softly in acknowledgement and Yuan continued, "Or when I woke up in the inn and went to find you in the market." he reminisced aloud, "I was so sure that you were long gone, but you just stuck around all cocksure and spouting nonsense about chivalry." He laughed to himself and Kratos smiled slightly at the memory. The half-elf had been an odd character when they'd first met.

"I still never got an apology from you for that kidnapping attempt," Kratos muttered. Yuan broke into a full-blown grin at that.

"I'm still not giving one." Kratos sighed in mock exasperation, he really didn't mind, but he gave the appearance he did. The memories were rich in this town, even though he hadn't stayed long after his escape. They felt distinct and separate, like a past life. Despite that, he easily found his way through the simply laid out city and spotted the old research institute, looking no worse for wear.

A couple of surprised glances were cast their way. He supposed two weapon-bearing strangers in battle armor would draw a few stares in a peaceful town quite a ways from the border region. Thank goodness their attire was fairly standard and bore no markings of Sylvarant. They wouldn't fit in here in Tethe'alla, but they wouldn't stand out too badly.

He pushed the heavy door open and strode in purposefully, Yuan at his heels and seemingly tense for some reason. The area was almost deserted, and Xilia was nowhere in sight. He spotted a young woman at a work station across the room, the only person past the lobby area he could see, and made his way over to her.

"Pardon me," he got her attention, "is Xilia in today?" The woman looked a bit surprised at having her work interrupted, but shook her head.

"I'm sorry, she went on a research expedition with Martel south of here. They might not be back for several days." Kratos inwardly sighed. Of course she wouldn't be there.

"Does anyone else specialize in exsphere research?" Perhaps another could remove it? That hope was swiftly crushed as the woman shook her head yet again.

"No sir, I believe that area was discontinued in favor of others with better funding." Yuan shifted from foot to foot at his side impatiently.

"Where did Xilia go exactly?" He interjected not quite rudely, but hastily enough to mean they'd much rather leave.

"Ah, well, they were following the mana flow. The best I could tell you would be the center of that thunderstorm. That's where they thought their destination would be, but it could be nearby." Yuan murmured a 'thanks' and they turned on their heels to leave. As the door swung shut behind them, Yuan adjusted his teal ponytail and scowled at Kratos.

"Damn your luck Kratos. This never happens to _me_." The Tethe'allan sighed in unspoken agreement and made to walk down the path.

"We might as well go find her. I'm not waiting _several_ _days_ to see whether or not she'll come back." his voice was low and monotonous. Yuan fell into step with him as always, albeit a bit confused.

"I didn't think it was that urgent." Gazing up at the clouds on the horizon that flickered occasionally with sparks of electricity Kratos set his new course.

"It just might be." Yuan made a noise of agreement and they both set off into the surrounding forest with a new objective.

* * *

**(A/N) So yea. Review xD?**


	21. Chapter 21

**(A/N) Last update before school starts, so I made it lengthy. Hope you all enjoy! Thanks to my awesome reviewers! I have a couple of replies to you guys:**

**Waitingforagame and Arodelle- I can't keep secrets with you guys, can I? xD I'll let you know there will be more interaction with Nyx in the future, and we'll get to her part soon. It'll all tie together! As always, I really appreciate the input!**

**1412 karasu and Marina Ka-Fai- you guys and your regular reviewing always makes me smile, thanx a ton for keeping up with this story!(and my sister says thanks btw Marina x)**

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned, but I don't.**

* * *

_**Chapter 21**_

* * *

Martel navigated quickly through the dank chambers, the sensor doing the majority of the work. The chill of the temple ran down her spine and put her on edge. Something powerful was at work here- something that rolled through the entire building as an invisible, broiling force. They were close to the center of the mass of mana, to the point where even Xilia, unable to sense it, was shifting restlessly and probably felt the tingle of energy on her skin. The eerie quiet between the three was a suspenseful one, and Martel could feel the rising tension about to break. As if they would have to take action at any second.

The ornate stone walls swept open to either side ahead, and she could see a dim room larger than any other they had passed through. Mithos' blonde shock of hair bobbed up and down as he walked beside her, but his steps were light and wary as he experienced her same feelings.

This was it.

They crept cautiously into the room. Martel was aware of monsters stirring on the periphery of her senses, but they were oddly dormant like everything in this temple. As if to contradict her, a bright flash flared across the walls, the color of a chill purple, lighting the outskirts of the chamber like torches as they caught and encircled the area. The three of them jolted in surprise, Mithos bringing up his kendama and Martel her staff automatically. However, when no attack came, they looked about the room curiously as it was now well lit in a fashion that made it seem cooler than it actually was.

"An automated lighting system?" Xilia asked with a fair degree of incredulity. Martel shook her head while taking in the dais ahead of them and the ample walls with a higher ceiling looming above them.

"The area responded to our influx of foreign mana and ignited. I'd think it was similar, but those aren't any form of traditional light I know of." She shut her eyes for a moment to confirm it, "It feels like the mana is caught in a sustained state of burning. It's pure energy." The sensor was off the charts, and she slid it back into Xilia's pack. It was fairly useless this close to the anomaly. Scouring the embellished floor for any sign of the cause of the power, she couldn't see anything. Mithos visibly shivered behind her as she took a couple of steps deeper into the room for a better look.

"This place all of a sudden seems-" he shrugged with a frown turning the corners of his mouth down in confusion, "_alive_." Martel hummed in agreement. The place was waking up at their presence, something she both heavily anticipated and guardedly feared. Reaching a short set of three stairs, Martel realized something odd.

"It's an altar of some sort." Xilia had flew to her right side and knelt down to examine the floor where deep ridges were cut into the stone in an apparent pattern. Running her finger through one of the neatly carved gouges, she met the same conclusion.

"You're right. It looks like a type of charmed circle- I can't tell, it's rather intricate." Martel's eyes darted about the large blueprint at their feet. She recognized little about it, the flowing lines were twisted into an ancient magic. Mana was clearly concentrated at the precise center, rippling out in unsteady waves, but despite everything, unseen. Martel cautiously approached the center of the circle, but caught herself in her steps when it began to faintly glow through the cracks. The purplish light was the same as that which lit the rest of the room, but the light beneath the circle was different in a way. It was brighter, more intense, and powerful. Martel hurried to remove herself from the dais and jumped down the steps to reach Xilia and Mithos' sides.

"Something's happening." Mithos dully observed, but he trained a distinctly worried look on Martel, "What's happening?" His eyes were wide with both eagerness and perhaps a little bit of fear. Martel was about to offer him some words of comfort when a crackling, deep, and gravelly voice hissed from somewhere above them.

_"A Summoner?" _The bodiless words floated through the room and sent shivers up Martel's spine. Mithos froze at her side and gripped at his kendama more fiercely than before. She felt her breath catch and looked about the room frantically. They were clearly the only ones present, so who could have spoken in such a manner?

"Who's there?" Martel bravely projected her voice outwards without the slightest tremble to betray her unease. Xilia, meanwhile, oddly looked oblivious to their newest surprise.

"What are you talking about?" She half-whispered, half-spoke. Martel's eyebrows creased in confusion. She didn't hear it? Mithos gave her an annoyed glare, only made less meaningful by the way his eyes flitted about the room.

"Are you deaf? The _voice_." His tone would've likely been condescending in any other circumstance, but instead it was simply snappish and devoid of any true implication. *****

"What _voice_?" She was taken aback, confirming Martel's suspicion. Xilia couldn't hear it for some reason. Did that make the voice an arte, or spell cast on them alone? The voice had said 'Summoner', and for some reason that word seemed familiar. Her father had used it before.

"Xilia, do you know of Summoners?" Humans had long kept historical records after all; maybe the researcher could spurn her memory. Xilia's eyes were now on the glowing circle, but she nodded all the same.

"It's a part of ancient legends, almost a religion. It was said that before Mana was worshipped as the only God, there were many other deities of lesser power that were prayed to in times of crisis. If I recall properly, Summoners were elves who were said to be capable of borrowing the lesser beings' powers for a time. As far as I know it's a myth, because the ancient stories heavily rely on Summoners as the hero figure, and Summoning was called quote 'a rare and powerful gift passed down through blood alone'." Xilia punctuated her opinion with a shrug, "and they were told ages ago, before the War began and before the Church of Mana was founded. I'm fairly certain the Church was created a good thousand years before the War began, too." Martel's mind was working furiously to connect the strings. Xilia's information sounded fairly correct, but she had _heard_ that word before. It was like a light bulb had clicked on when she remembered- a feat in itself, for it was more than ten years ago.

Her human father used to humor her with stories of their elven mother whenever she asked. One particular story stuck in her mind as fantastic and magical when she was little more than eleven years of age. That was likely the reason she could recall it with such clarity even today.

_"Father!" A young girl with shoulder length tufts of sea green locks called after a man with thin framed glasses and dark brown hair. He had turned with a bright smile on his face, stopping in his tracks to allow her to catch up._

_"Yes, Martel?" They were outside of their home, a small wooden building on the outskirts of Yggdrasil, the front side facing the forest, while the backdoor pointed back along the path to the center of the village. With the house situated in this manner, the Great Tree was visible above the tree line, looming as a beacon of energy over the town, grand and magnificent. However, the sight was commonplace for an eleven-year-old Martel, and she kept her eager gaze trained on her father._

_"Where did mother go?" She would often approach him in the same way throughout the past few months, her thirst for answers manifesting itself at a young age, but more so the lack of response was egging her on. The question was spoken every day since the beautiful, tall woman had disappeared._

_She had left the same night that she gave birth to Martel's new baby brother, leaving the girl with a boatload of questions. The elven woman had been gone for long periods of time before, so it was curiosity and not yet worry that drove her interrogation. As always the smile faded a bit from her father's face, and she had figured that this time would be as fruitless as the others. Deflating a little, she was surprised when her father made to sit on the long wooden bench that rested on their porch. Her enthusiasm picked up almost immediately and she sat right next to him._

_"Your mother went back to her elven family in Heimdall." Her father kept his voice even, but Martel saw the sadness in his eyes and the limpness of his posture. Martel got the feeling he would continue, so she kept quiet._

_"She still loves you and Mithos, but she had to leave because the elven elders decided it so." Martel's eyes widened in realization._

_"You mean she's not coming back?" Her own voice sounded lost to her ears, smaller than she remembered. A solemn shake of her father's head answered her question, and her sadness was replaced by defiance._

_"Well, why not? Why does she have to do what they say?" The little girl's hands were curled in fists, gripping the fabric of her own pant legs with a desperate ferocity. At this, her father looked a little less melancholy and he put a direction to the conversation._

_"Your mother is very special to the elves. They have a few people who have a special ability, people with a power even bigger than ordinary magic." Martel's blinked owlishly. Even more powerful than magic? She couldn't fathom such a thing. "The power is important to them, not because they need it, but because they don't want to lose it. Losing it could have consequences in the future, after all, what if they end up needing it like they once did to survive?" Martel nodded. It would be a shame to lose something so extraordinary._

_"Well, the elves were negligent. Thousands of years passed, and slowly, some of them began to die. It was not out of the ordinary, for elves live a remarkably long time, but only one bloodline carried this special talent. Many of them did not want to share it, even though most of those with the proper blood still did not have the ability- only a few could use it, but all carried the potential to pass it on." Martel swung her legs absentmindedly off of the bench back and forth while she thought. If such an ability was rare, they'd have to keep track of quite a few things to keep it alive within the elf population._

_"But as I said, the elves grew lax in their previously strict ways and each did what they wanted. Some stayed in Heimdall, while others began to explore Symphonia and meld with the human populations. Despite the factor of longevity, many elves saw themselves in the humans and lived alongside them. Your mother was one of those elves, and when we met we fell in love. A few went to live in Mizuho, whereas others travelled away from the holy ground of Kharlan and passed through the main continent." Martel had never met any elves besides her own mother, though, and she imagined what the others might have looked like._

_"While your mother stayed here, the elders found that they could no longer cleanly track their most cherished bloodline. They considered it tainted with the blood of humans and useless to them in that regard, for humans surely could not harness their rarest artes, even if their blood was half-elven. The greatest portion of those carrying the hereditary gene had moved to Mizuho, and that village was the village of the ninjas. The elves were horrified to find that they could not locate their kin because Mizuho was always moving." Martel knew the ninja town to be a temporary one and their stealth skills were unmatched. Even the elves couldn't find them._

_"Your mother carried this gene, though she could not use the power, and the elders knew this. They knew that she had moved here because of her correspondence with her brethren, and after Mithos was born, they deemed it necessary to move her back to the village to start anew. She was not the last of them, but there were many nearing their final years as elves. The elders would not allow such an asset to dissolve into nothingness while they could still help it. So they requested she return." Martel felt herself grow angry again._

_"But it's their own fault! They forgot, and now they have to face the consequences. Mother can do what she wants!" Her father rubbed her shoulder comfortingly._

_"Despite loving us all dearly, your mother also cares about her cultural roots. She would much rather stay here, but her elven ancestry is something that she is honor-bound to protect. She had no other choice than to return. As we speak, they are attempting modern transfusion techniques to spread the bloodline, but your mother will likely not come home for many years." Martel felt her fury eclipse into misery._

_"So I might never see her again?" She choked back a sob._

_"You may, and you may not. It is up to fate to reunite us all." Her father pulled her into a hug and they sat on the wooden bench while she kept the tears at bay until Mithos began to cry from inside the house. The sun was especially bright, and the birds especially loud. The liveliness made the melancholy worse, but Martel shifted uncomfortably before speaking again._

_"What kind of power is it? How can it be so important to them?" She sniffed a bit and wiped her nose. Her father sighed softly, and she found that the conversation was taking as much a toll on him as it was on her._

_"It was called _Summoning_ and it allowed the elves to ask upon long lost creatures for power in exchange for a promise. The ancient elves that first came to Symphonia on the comet Derris Kharlan used such grand power to transplant the Great Seed to their new home, and from it grew the Great Yggdrasil itself." Martel ran her hands through her hair and stood tiredly to go comfort the still crying Mithos. Such a power was immense, she supposed, but it did her and Mithos no good to go on motherless because of it._

Martel broke from her reverie after the sharpness of the memory faded into the present. The voice had called out to both Mithos and herself- had called one of them a Summoner, which meant the mana fluctuations were sourced from true deities, from _spirits_. It was possible to borrow power from whatever creature lurked in the spirit world then?

_Summon spirits_.

She could only imagine how much power a single magical being could direct and influence, if this area was simply its resting place. If the being was conscious, then they were likely in for either enormous fortune or an enormous fight for their lives.

But which of them carried the prowess that could change their fates? Herself? or Mithos?

She had no more time for contemplation, because evidently the spirit had grown bored or woke completely, because a dark mass of mana centered on the altar shifted to the form of a large being with folded wings. As it materialized, the creature revealed a back with bony vertebrae and a head full of fanged teeth and gleaming red eyes.

* * *

Kratos and Yuan had traveled without break into the night, making excellent time, oddly the woods were still and quiet without obstacle. Yuan had voiced this several times and he did so again while his light danced between the sparse branches to reveal a clear and unobstructed path in their desired direction.

"Doesn't it seem too tranquil around here?" Yuan felt his cape flit about him as a light breeze broke through the trees ahead of them. A breeze meant that the forest would end soon, for the wind was not broken by enough trees to dissipate as it would have been within the deepest parts of the woodland.

"The calm presents an ominous sense of foreboding." Kratos agreed, quickening his pace when he could hear the crackling of lightning beyond the trees that obstructed his view. He could feel them closing in on the vast presence of mana, similar to that of Triet, but also different in a way. Triet could easily be mistaken by its population, but this was out in the middle of nowhere. Something was stirring there, massive and unknown.

The break in the trees signified a biome shift, and Kratos grateful stepped out to get a better view. The dark night sky was covered with thick and churning clouds, black above them and flickering with the contained energy of the rolling thunder. The lightning provided a flashing effect that lit the grassy plain before them in irregular bursts. Kratos took another step forwards and heard the crackle of dried grasses below his boots. He could see a low building in the middle of the plain, the center of the windswept maelstrom. That had to be their destination.

Taking yet another step as he heard Yuan right behind him, he threw a glance over his shoulder. The half-elf's face appeared paler in the shifting light, but he managed to crack a smile.

"At least it's not raining," Yuan supplied optimistically as they walked through the tall prairie grasses. Kratos sighed slightly and gave him a pointed glare.

"That was a stupid thing to say." Sure enough, the pattering of raindrops began to plummet from above and plop to the earth in fat droplets. Kratos couldn't feel it, but from the way Yuan twitched, he guessed it was cold. Yuan swore and trained a hateful gaze back at Kratos.

"You do know that this is all your fault, right?" The damp teal strands of shorter hair drooped over his forehead and made the scene comical. Kratos shrugged, figuring his own hair looked equally ridiculous in the intensifying downpour.

"Isn't it always?" He smirked slightly and added, "Anyways, you asked for that one. You should know by now." Yuan shook his head to rid the water in his eyes and muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'best friends with a friggen hex', but Kratos payed it little mind. He was more interested in the pillar of rock that drew his attention, dominating the landscape in front of them.

It seemed as if strong earth magic had constructed the solid peak, and it was subject to a shattering mass of constantly striking lightning. The pillar was an ingenious method to guarantee safe passage to the building. Kratos shielded his eyes from the blurry streams of water that ran down his face and sized up the stone.

"Clever." He noted, and saw Yuan nod to his side while trying to ring out his now soaked cape.

They continued on around to a tunneled entrance that was accompanied by thin trails of water. Evidently it was slightly downhill, but it was cover nevertheless, and Kratos reveled in the instantaneous muting of the rain when they stepped within the hall. The assault on his ears had been less than pleasant, but now it was dull drumming on the stone roof and rustle in the grasses beyond. The water dripped off of their clothes in to small rivulets that lead down the hall along grout lines in the stone.

"I'll bet they're in here." Yuan mock-supposed with enthusiasm, letting his flaccid cape sag behind him as he strode in plastered steps down the hall. Kratos shook his head free of water and followed his companion, feeling the omnipresent power even larger than before.

* * *

"A dragon?!" Xilia yelled, while dropping behind them faster than she thought she was capable. Mithos swiftly began casting another earth-based spell, impressing Xilia with his response time. Smaller monsters began to spawn on the dais as well, circling and hissing in the strange electrical fashion that seemed to permeate the entire region. Xilia's gaze remained fixed on the beast that dominated the stage.

"It's a drake, actually." She heard Martel correct her while she quickly cast a guardian around them to deflect the flames that poured out of the creature's mouth. Xilia could feel the heat blistering in waves as it split neatly in half around Martel's defenses. That gave Mithos the proper time to finish his enchantment, and soon enough another pillar of earth shot up underneath the drake's scaly stomach. The scales were clearly tougher than they let on though, because despite being hit solidly by the stone, the beast shrieked shrilly and twisted to its side with a flap of the large and leathery wings. It turned with a swoop of the skeletal appendages to head straight for them.

Martel's magic defenses would not block such a physically based attack. Xilia realized it first and yelled in warning to the others.

"Get down!" Both she and Martel were forced to the right while Mithos slid to the left instead, separating them while an angry drake cut fiercely between where they had just been standing.

The other monsters did not stay idle for long, and the wicked torrent they flowed in seemed never-ending. Martel was in the process of chanting a light spell, but she was repeatedly interrupted with the need to evade electrically based attacks. Xilia noted with disdain that each of the creatures had an affinity for lightning style magic- excluding the now furious drake. Martel was doing her best to keep Xilia covered and protected, but it was more than difficult to say the least.

Mithos was holding his own, yet Xilia could tell that Martel was aching to run to her brother by the anxious glances and agitated maneuvers she managed while still engaged in battle.

Eventually Martel completed her light spell while the drake clawed its way towards Mithos, whom constructed a quick, but flimsy barrier out of earth. The blonde boy sent fireball after fireball to keep it at bay, but it was clear he wouldn't be able to keep up such a pace.

"Grand Cross!" Martel cried, and a glowing path writhed itself underneath the drake, the light from her staff directing the magic. The beast was immobilized and blasted into the air upon a blinding glyph that then crushed it into the ground. The scaly serpent shattered into a cloud of dust as it dissipated, leaving Mithos unharmed in his crumbling array of defenses.

Xilia sighed in relief, but none of them were given time to rest, for the lesser monsters were upon them.

* * *

Yuan's eyes roamed the darkened walls of the echoing temple. The darkness was near complete, but what he could see of the inside was ornate and magnificent.

"I wonder how long this has been here." He mused aloud, tracing his fingers along the cool stone walls to guide him as they walked. Kratos walked to his left in the center of the hallway, and Yuan questioned whether or not he was capable of seeing in such obscurity. Evidently so, because there was no falter in his step.

"It appears it may be hundreds of years old." Kratos' voice was deep and contemplative, "We have records dating back to before the War began, and it seems the researchers were ignorant to its existence beforehand. It must be very old indeed." Suddenly the sound of Kratos' footsteps ceased and Yuan knew he had stopped. Mouth open and about to query as to the reason of the sudden halt, Yuan was assaulted with the sense of a mana explosion.

It was not an explosion, per se, but more like a sudden flux like an enormous concentration of monsters, and something more he couldn't name. The closeness of it all was an immediate affront to his senses, like an overload. They must be very close, because amidst the chaos, Yuan can pick out three distinct mana signatures belonging to people like flares in the darkness.

"Oh God." Yuan breathed, and both he and Kratos broke into a sprint down the nearest corridor, feet pounding hollowly in what they had thought to be a relatively empty temple.

The likely raging battle was more than enough to guide them through the crisscrossing pathways to the proper room, but Yuan hoped that they would get there in time to stave off the dark auras he could feel rising in number.

* * *

Mithos put up a guardian just in time to deflect another branch of lightning from the curious-looking stones that twisted and floated as if they were living flesh and not unforgiving rock. He hissed a curse to himself when he felt his magic weakening. He twisted to his right and chanted a brief spell to hold off the enclosing spheres.

"Air Cutter!" His mana stirred in to a sharp gust of slicing wind that cut straight through several of the stones. However, there were five more hanging back, and casting lightning attacks in such a way that he had no time to do anything but dodge. Martel was having the same difficulty while keeping the human protected, and he felt as if they were set up to fail. Eventually they would tire out completely in this loop of evasions and be left for dead.

Too caught up in strategy, Mithos moved slower than he should have to dodge another crackling arc of lightning and several of the spurting tendrils grounded on his shoulder. Thrown back by the jolt of electricity, Mithos landed heavily on his backside as he slid across the stone floor. The pain wasn't as bad as it could have been, but he was open to attack during his recovery period. He scrambled as fast as he could to his feet, already knowing he would be too slow again while he braced for the impact.

"Mithos!" he heard Martel cry out in desperation after seeing him struck.

Was this really how it was going to end? In a dirty temple doing research for his sister?

In a flash of color, though, Mithos found the incoming magic completely averted from him by a transparent green guardian barrier. Hearing the thrum of lightning snap harmlessly off of the defense, Mithos' eyes widened. A stranger had whipped onto the battlefield with an iron sword drawn, and he wielded it something ferocious. Mithos could watch in awe as the auburn haired man maneuvered expertly among the monsters while deflecting and dodging bursts of magic. He used powerful strokes of his blade to hack the possessed stones in half with speed and precision.

Mithos' attention was then swiftly drawn to his sister's side of the room, where yet another unknown savior had sprung into action. The teal haired man twisted a peculiar double-handed and double edged sword in sharp thrusts at the offending monsters on that side.

"Kratos, behind you!" The elven man called out across the room where his redheaded friend was almost surrounded. Upon warning, though, the human twisted into a one-eighty and jumped over the creature behind him. With a flick of his sword mid-leap, the monster was reduced to ashes.

The once endless profusion of monsters now lay in crumbling stone piles and clouds of dust in a mere couple of minutes.

Mithos' mouth gaped open, and he saw Martel and Xilia were in a similar state to his own. When the tall auburn haired human turned to face him, Mithos was met with a reserved, yet somehow anxious expression of concern and strikingly russet almost crimson eyes.

"Is everyone alright?" His gaze lingered for a moment on Mithos before drifting to scan over Martel and Xilia. The half-elf across the room strode to his companion's side. Mithos immediately got the impression that the man expected more danger from his rigid stance and fidgety figure, but his azure eyes were sharp and his hair was strung back to lay upon a very sodden cape.

"No one seems to be hurt." The half-elf let the tip of his blade sag down towards the stone floor. The purplish light was dancing across all of their features, and Mithos finished sizing them all up.

"Who are you?" Mithos found himself asking their saviors rather awkwardly. The half-elf snapped his gaze from Martel to Mithos and let a sharp laugh ring.

"You're welcome, you know. We did just save your butts." He ran a hand through his hair as his shoulders relaxed. "I'm Yuan." Mithos shifted his stare back to the human.

"And you're Kratos?" He had heard the half-elf call the man as such. The wine colored irises seemed to communicate a sort of disapproval to Yuan, but he nodded nevertheless after shooting his companion a very pointed glare.

"Yes, I am. Personally, I am only acquainted with Xilia, though I am pleased to meet the both of you despite the circumstances." A slight incline of the head substituted for a formal bow and Mithos blinked.

"You're pleased to meet us?" The incredulity in his voice rang flat while Martel strung an arm around his shoulder to quiet his skepticism. Was he mocking them with graciousness? Confusion clouded the human's eyes, but he answered anyways.

"Well, yes, or I wouldn't have said as much." Kratos swiftly turned his attention to the quiet researcher that still stood a ways behind the rest.

"Xilia, I apologize for my absence, but an emergency came up I could not ignore." Mithos bristled at the end to their conversation, but gauged Xilia's reaction. She pushed up the spectacles and squinted a bit as if she wasn't sure she knew the man at all.

"Daisuke Hayato?" Mithos didn't miss Yuan blanch at the name and slightly hang his head.

"It's true that I went by that name five years ago." Kratos sheathed his blade with the grating noise of metal on metal, looking a bit put off by revealing such information. The stoic nature of the two of them made Mithos a bit edgy. They felt like somewhat shady characters, but that couldn't be true if they willingly stepped in to help their own losing battle.

Xilia's eyes widened in either recognition or realization and she nodded her head. Her surprised expression shifted into a curious one.

"Well, then, Kratos, I had thought you either dead or long gone. My exsphere research was put on hold indefinitely not long after your disappearance." Her frown dissolved into a look of gratefulness, "But I am in your debt now. You have impeccable timing. Is there a reason you've come to find me after all these years?"

"Actually-" He stopped midsentence and Mithos understood why a split-second later.

_"Summoner, you and your companions are strong. I shall test your power myself."_ The crackling and hissing rumble of a voice returned in a low drawl. The newest additions to the research party readied their swords, once again rigid in anticipation of a new enemy, and shifted into a well practiced battle stances. Mithos' breath caught when he felt the mana condense and ripple in a power on an entirely separate level than he'd ever experienced. The flickering purple light cast over the now feverishly glowing glyph on the dais as the center grew brighter and more unstable.

The mana in the air around them grew tumultuous and charged with a type of static energy, and Mithos gripped his kendama so hard that his knuckles turned white.

A being materialized in a shower of sparks on the altar- though _being_ was a loosely used term. It was almost entirely energy, in its purest and most condensed form, like a violent ball of live lightning. Only when it began to shift, did Mithos see deeply set and glowing red orbs that looked eerily like eyes.

"Prepare yourselves!" Kratos barked out to them, both him and Yuan set for battle. When the voice came again, Mithos knew with all certainty that the creature in front of them was its source.

_"We shall see if you are worthy"_ The power rolling off of each word was tangible and Mithos broke himself from his frozen posture into his own casting stance.

"Keep him off my back!" He called to the strangers in front of him as he readied his best earth spell. A determined nod from the half-elf told Mithos he had not been ignored, but he didn't focus on that for long because right after the world turned into a raining hell of lightning.

He barely swapped his spell for a guardian and strained under the sheer pressure of the coursing electricity. It appeared that everyone had blocked in time, Martel shielding Xilia, and both the strangers sporting their own magical guardians.

Mithos grit his teeth and planted his feet when the blasts of lightning subsided, a new fierceness to his stance when he realized what they were up against. Hissing his next spell, Mithos let himself be absorbed into his magic. A grim smile crossed his lips at the challenge.

Let it begin.

* * *

*** Volt is referenced often as only heard by half-elves (like Raine and Genis) so Xilia can't hear his voice. Kratos can hear him because he has many elven characteristics thanks to his exsphere, and I imagine that the majority of it is because half-elves can sense mana while humans can't.**

**(A/N) Yes, they finally meet! Stay tuned, and I'll ****_try_**** to keep updates regular but it'll be difficult. Review xD?**


	22. Chapter 22

**(A/N) Sorry I'm a bit late- college applications *ugh* I literally wrote this while filling out crap side-by-side. Anyways, faithful followers, it's what you've all been waiting for! Enjoy! Shout out at the end!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Symphonia, but this plot line is allllllll minnneeee.**

* * *

_**Chapter 22**_

* * *

"Keep him off my back!" The blonde boy yelled from somewhere to Yuan's left. The Sylvaranti ripped his focus from the very _very_ pretty half-elf behind him to give the caster a brief nod. Did he mention she was beautiful? Her hair lay down in wavy tresses and her face was like that of an angel, it was as if she-

"Yuan, focus!" Kratos' commanding battle-voice rang next to him, bringing him back to the matter at hand. Yuan Kaafei didn't _get_ sidetracked so he grunted in acknowledgement and slid a calculating glance over their newest opponent. He felt the blood drain from his face, as he met the cool red orbs. The shivering and ever-snapping ball of electricity looked next to impossible to defeat. How do you triumph when your adversary is energy itself? Both Kratos and he twisted to the side to coordinate their unison strike, as they tended to almost always begin a battle with a combined attack, but the massive surge in mana activity caused them both to slide to a stop and activate their magical barriers.

The room had become a conductive sea of lightning, the mana overpowering Yuan's senses and barrier with sheer force. The crackling pillars of light had subsided not long after, but the noise left everyone's ears ringing and eyes blinking it away. Yuan could see Kratos recover swifter than he did, and the auburn shock of hair disappeared in a feat of speed behind the creature. Yuan followed through on the front side and brought his butterfly blade across his body experimentally. The metal flecked off of the enormous sphere with an audible crack, slivers of electricity traveling up the handle to pinprick his fingers with shots of pain. He hissed and withdrew quickly as the beast, -er, _thing_ spun around and trained its viciously deep eyes on himself.

Kratos had come to the same conclusion as well, though he seemed unperturbed by the sparks that rolled off the orb like water.

"It's not working," the frustration was evident in the tenor of his voice, but he rolled and hacked away fruitlessly nevertheless. At least his rapid movement kept him from getting shocked as the thing grew more and more flustered with his attempts.

Yuan was still sizing up his options when Kratos sprung next to him, drawing the attention to his location. He didn't know how the Tethe'allan was still able to pin an irate glance on him despite the dire situation.

"I recall several years ago, when you agreed to be the diversion if such a circumstance ever arose." Yuan was almost too put off to dodge the next blast of lightning that he could see forming above them. Was Kratos _joking_ at a time like this?

"Well, I didn't think we'd run into another problem like this one!" Yuan stammered a defensive reply, pulling off an indignant yell- which elicited a few strange looks from the two casting half-elves behind them. Kratos rolled his eyes at the same moment the blonde one- Mithos, he thought he'd heard, released a spell.

"Stalagmite!" the boy caught the little ball inside his kendama as the mana worked its way through the ground beneath their feet, springing up into an impressive column underneath the electrically based being. Earth magic would do the trick, Yuan thought with an inkling of hope, as the creature lost some of its intensity to the grounding the new circuit made. At first, he thought it might be even simpler than that, because the orb jolted and twitched erratically as if trying to free itself. He saw his opportunity at that moment and activated one of his brief elementary spells to strike while the creature was still down.

"Stone blast!" He extended a hand, and as the pointed stones fractured the floor and pierced the body, Kratos released a heavy blow of mana alongside the strike of his sword as he brought it down in anticipation of Yuan's strike.

"Fierce Demon Fang!" Kratos' deeper voice yelled as the monster of mana was forced down onto the earthen extensions and seemed to hiss in pain. Kratos was propelled off of it with a great force and array of sparks, but he caught himself in a crouch and Yuan could see the sphere fade and weaken.

"Keep using your earth spells!" He called to the rather skilled half-elf caster, while making eye contact with Kratos, "We have to push him into a corner, if we cut down his mobility, then all the electricity should subside with contact to a ground source." Kratos gave a curt nod as they both coiled into attack stances. Before they pounced from either side, the monster's sporadic movements were arrested by a curious looking light spell- the likes of which Yuan had not seen.

"Photon!" A distinctly feminine voice, hard with determination sounded from the opposite side of the room, and needles of sparkling white light collapsed into the sparking mass of energy, flaming once before fading away. The woman- Martel, had her staff extended and an ethereal look about her as the only source of pure light in a violet setting of a dimmer hue. Yuan was momentarily caught in awe, but not for long before the sound of Kratos' light footsteps directed him to the very angry beast.

"Keep casting, Yuan!" He slipped underneath and cut behind the monster with a twirling Light Spear attack, which he could tell kept it at bay for a few moments longer. The unbridled energy was roiling now, though, and Yuan knew that Kratos could barely handle it when it was stationary, but the jerky and lightning fast motions it was employing made it hard to get a read on. Very clearly, it directed itself at the, until now, well-protected half-elves nearer to the back of the platform.

It knew that spells were its greatest weakness, and Kratos could do little to slow it single-handedly.

Instead of settling for a spell that would last longer, Yuan briefly endowed his blade with earthen qualities, whispering the words and seeing the mana pouring from his hands form like a rock encasement around his blade. The ends fell forward with added weight, but it was a welcome burden, and he swiftly spun it and leapt after the powerful entity. The danger with this strike was the looming threat of electrocution.

"Kratos!" He yelled in warning, and was grateful to see the man knowingly duck into a spin away from his angle of attack. Releasing his make-shift spear at the peak of his leap, the blade spun quickly into the belly of the creature, sparking soundly as it planted itself firmly in the stone beneath the flickering orb. The arcs within connected at random, but the vibrancy of the purple arcs seemed to be dimming perceptibly, and Kratos thrust his hilt forward into a sonic thrust while Mithos released a final Stone Blast.

The combined puncturing of the energy mass released the shocks of lightning in one final, deafening crack of power that seemed ubiquitous. Kratos wasn't so lucky as to get his Guardian up in time, but the sparks were so much weaker than before, that Yuan only saw him get pushed backwards onto his side. Mithos was nearest to him, and had resourcefully constructed a magical barrier in front of them both. Eyes drawn across the stone flooring, he saw the green hair fly behind Martel as she deflected the sparks around both her and the human researcher skillfully. The wave of mana was the remainder of what energy lay within the creature, and with the energy dissipating and diluting itself within the room, Yuan felt the charged air cool considerably.

"I think it's over," Yuan relaxed his shoulders and went to retrieve his butterfly blade from its rock-encrusted position impaled into the floor, now thanks to Mithos, surrounded by a mound of spiky stone teeth reminiscent of his Stone Blast. Kratos stirred from the ground as he pushed himself up onto his elbows to stand, looking a little worse for wear, but overall not too bad.

Just as Yuan managed to wretch the weapon from the jaws of the floor, the rocks falling away at the touch of his mana, a shiver ran up his spine. The manifestation of power revived in the center of the dais, off in front of them. He could feel the fragments of mana gather themselves and draw into a closely knit center.

"It's not over," Martel shifted back into her battle stance, staff angled with both hands. At that moment the hissing and cracking voice grated across the room.

_"Summoner, you have defeated me. I accept your power and ask that you make your vow to tie the pact."_

A murmur of confusion escaped Yuan, and Kratos' brow furrowed as well. Who was the Summoner? Martel stepped forwards, eyes alight and burning with something analogous to bravery, but not quite matching confidence.

* * *

"A 'vow'-" Martel spoke aloud as the wheels began to turn. Summoning- '_it allowed the elves to ask upon long lost creatures for power in exchange for a promise.' _A promise. A vow. Could she make a so-called pact with a being of such power?

"This Summoner you speak of-" she projected strongly towards the dais, "is it myself?" Her voice felt bigger as it bounced off of the walls, but she'd never felt smaller before in her life. The long pause that followed made her uneasy, and her knuckles turned white with her tight grip on her staff.

_"No. I grow impatient. Summoner, make your vow or risk the threat of exposure to my full power."_

Martel felt the weight of uncertainty lift and she spun enthusiastically to Mithos, tugging him forwards with hurried motions of her arms.

"Mithos, he's talking to you." She left a hand on his shoulder in comfort and squeezed lightly, "You need to make him a promise." Mithos gave her a blank look and his forehead crinkled in confusion. He had little to no clue what was going on, but Martel prodded him anyways.

"A promise? What kind of promise?" He asked with befuddlement shining through his expressive blue eyes. Martel glanced up at the platform once, seeing the being materialize again in the center, the luminous, crimson, almond-shaped eyes brightening out of the shadows. Pursing her lips, she then met Mithos' questioning gaze.

"If you had any power in the world, what would you do with it?" Mithos' eyes fell downcast as he thought, but not a moment later he perked up.

"If I had power," He began tentatively, voice getting louder as he went, "I would stop the fighting, and find a place where half-elves could live free of discrimination." The corners of Martel's mouth turned up as she anxiously awaited the response from the Summon Spirit. Mithos still looked uncomfortable and shaken up, but she could explain just as well if they were successful.

_"A worthy pact." _The voice rattled, _"You have the power of Volt at your service."_ the oppressive energy dissipated again, as the red eyes faded, the energy condensing into a small, brilliant sphere of mana that softly drifted towards the blonde boy.

"Ah!" Mithos took a half-step back as it approached him, "What is it?" Martel kept a hand at his back reassuringly, but the purplish light flashed and disappeared as soon as it touched his skin. A sharp gasp escaped his lips, but other than that, he was perfectly fine. Martel's worry subsided in favor of excitement. The presence was gone completely now, Mithos' mana felt stronger, and the exhilaration of the battle had not yet worn off.

"What just happened?" The teal-haired man asked, and Martel was sure that he had said his name was Yuan before the Summon Spirit appeared. She felt her face split into a full-blown smile as it all began to sink in. Xilia had slipped out from behind her, seeming unsettled as she brushed her arms as if she was cold. She probably looked like a lunatic, smiling at a time like this, but she finally understood.

"They're Summon Spirits." She explained, watching Xilia's expression as her colleague's eyes sharpened behind the spectacles. "The source of the mana fluctuations- they're _beings_. Creatures of power that control a certain type of fixed mana. They balance the world's flow, but if something goes wrong at the source- then things could get hard to balance." She was gesturing wildly to keep up. Xilia nodded.

"Like in the myths! Mana-based entities- that means..." she looked wide eyed at Mithos' slight form, "You have the power to call upon it again." Mithos very truly went bug-eyed at that last statement.

"No I can't! That thing almost killed us! I don't think I'd even _want_ to call it." He crossed his arms childishly and turned up his nose, as if to say 'It's not possible anyways'. The way he averted his gaze from his sister, he managed to lock eyes with Yuan instead. The piercingly sharp look he was appraising him with seemed to deflate him a little.

"Seriously?" Yuan asked while crossing his arms as well, "If you had that kind of power, I thought you'd do what you promised. Why not stop the war?" Martel nodded in approval. The one who went by Kratos walked up beside them, a look of apprehension still on his face, auburn locks splayed every which way from what must've been a considerable amount of electricity.

* * *

Kratos kept his eyes down as he returned to the collection of half-elves and humans that circled just off center of the heavy, but now calm platform. He was partway listening to what was going on, but most of his thoughts were directed inwards. Something had happened that he couldn't pinpoint- the lack of feeling was keeping him from noticing what was happening, but something was definitely wrong. Something _felt_ off, yet he couldn't feel at all. He didn't want whatever it was to spring up behind him unnoticed like the last time.

He threw a glance over himself discreetly as he sheathed his sword, not noticing any new wounds, while the bandages seemed to be holding their own just fine. His sight and hearing remained precise- perfect. Meanwhile the others were discussing the possibility of 'Summon Spirits', which all in all made much more sense to him than one might expect. The incident in Triet had to have been caused by one such being going out of control.

The mana crisis had a worldly effect, and he took the new developments in stride as one should. But he couldn't handle not knowing what was wrong with him now. The ball of electricity, or _Volt_ as it identified itself so clearly, had not done any lasting damage to him despite its best efforts, yet he could feel the degree of power it contained. It hadn't even faced them with a fraction of its full abilities. An ally like that could do wonders in whatever the child pursued- be it good or evil goals.

Though the strangers seemed of an admirable merit, he had to question their sense if they were planning on completing such a journey alone. Kratos looked up from the marked stone floor to examine the others. The boy, no more than twelve, sported a ponderous expression as he began to understand the weight of his spur-of-the-moment vow. The green-haired girl seemed above everything else, pleased with their exploits, which Kratos could not say he approved wholeheartedly of. They had been lucky, and nothing more than that, that he and Yuan found them before they were electrocuted.

He sighed slightly to himself in disapproval before he realized it, and masked his expression the best he could. Yuan didn't notice, by some miracle, and Kratos had thought he'd gotten away clean, but the young half-elf caught his eyes immediately afterwards.

"Is there some kind of problem?" The bratty, confrontational approach did surprise Kratos a bit- hadn't he been near cordial with Yuan earlier? A single raised auburn eyebrow preceded his retort, very likely going to be something with no tolerance for ungrateful remarks. He opened his mouth and his lips formed words.

But no sound came out.

Pausing after the first word, Kratos tried again without any result. When that didn't work, he muttered every curse word he knew and turned away angrily.

He was angry at himself for not taking care of it earlier, and angry at the damn Cruxis Crystal that was hell-bent on destroying his humanity. His back turned to the group, he didn't miss the short pause and gaping stare Yuan in particular had burning on his back.

"Kratos?" The questioning hint to the words was quickly overcome by a demanding one, "What the hell is going on?" Martel inclined her head in confusion.

"Can you not speak?" At that Kratos ran a hand through his hair frustratedly, not caring when the burnet strands fell back into his eyes. Yanking off his glove, he gestured harshly to the back of his hand where the exsphere lay glowing once again. The bright crimson was bordering on dazzling and lively- as if it was mocking his difficulty with communication. Xilia looked immediately appalled at the prospect.

"The Cruxis Crystal?" She asked at the same time Yuan muttered, "The exsphere?" Xilia rushed towards him to examine it and grabbed his hand none too harshly to bring it closer to her glasses.

Kratos pressed his lips firmly into a line. This was by far one of the worst outcomes. He'd reached the point he had attempted to avoid, the moment he could no longer conceal whatever sickness the crystal imbued in him. He had been foolish enough to think he'd make it in time. Yuan's face shifted through emotions so quickly, it was like reading a book. First surprise, confusion, anger, and then concern. Kratos figured the anger had much to do with the rather unsurprised manner he had taken it in, but when Yuan got concerned, it was time to worry. It wasn't bad enough to merit his companion's anxiety, was it?

"What's it doing to him?!" Yuan was at his side faster than one could blink and peered frantically into the red gem as if he could see what the researcher couldn't. Kratos suppressed the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. It was going to be a damn long explanation.

And Hell would freeze over before he participated in anything resembling charades.

Mithos' expression quickly transformed from cold defensiveness to an intrigued enthrallment, "He really can't talk?"

The curiosity was so unadulterated that Kratos was merely content without it being another glance of anxiety or pity. The boy hesitantly hung back as Yuan buzzed about Xilia, restlessly spewing almost uncouth questions without giving her a chance to answer. The scientist straightened her frames and met his gaze neutrally.

"I had no idea your Crystal had progressed so far- there's no way for me to tell by color alone. But, my best guess is a problem with the mana filtration aspect, because that was where the simulations were having difficulty beforehand. To truly get a good look at the problem, we need to head back to the Institute." Kratos would have said she was oddly almost light-hearted, if he was concerned with such trivial matters.

A slight shake of the head and a step or two in the proper direction got everyone going, Yuan in particular trotting behind him and training those annoyingly calculating stares on him when he thought Kratos wasn't looking. Meeting his friend's eyes during one such occasion caused the Tethe'allan's gut to clench with guilt. Why did the half-elf have to care so _damn_ much? It mentally hurt to see the turmoil Yuan was flitting through- a cross between fury and unmitigated anxiety. He shifted so often that Kratos had no clue which he was experiencing at which moments, just that they were happening.

They walked alongside one another in a tense silence, navigating the labyrinth easily by sensing the receding mana levels. It was still dark outside, if the skylights were anything to go by, and Kratos noted with little relief that the rain must've stopped for a few stars to be visible above them. Martel and Xilia hung back with Mithos, evidently unsure as how to proceed, but for the most part it was simply uncomfortable.

* * *

"How did this happen?" Yuan muttered quietly, but all the same Kratos opened his mouth as if to respond. He then shut it half a second later and grit his teeth in frustration.

" Oh. Sorry," Yuan shook his head in understanding, "We'll get you fixed." It sounded like he was convincing himself more than anything else, and that scared him. Kratos still seemed peevish, setting his hand roughly on his sheath and averting his gaze mutely. The footfalls echoed loudly, and when their boots hit water, the splashes were the only noise aside from breathing. The damp fields were ahead, a dark blue background to the pitch dark walls that made up the strange temple.

As they broke into free air, the little blonde boy jogged to catch up to them- either displeased with the other conversation that had gone murmuring on behind them, or captivated by the idea of two strangers.

"Hey! Wait up!" He caught the end of Yuan's cape and gave it a quick tug as he matched pace with them.

"What do you want, kid?" Yuan was in a bad mood, and figured the boy had some sick satisfaction in Kratos' misfortune.

"I just wanted to talk to you guys," Mithos humphed and nervously fingered his kendama. Yuan shrugged half-heartedly, finding Kratos seemed to have tuned them both out by the distant look to his eyes.

"You can talk to one of us," he openly gestured to himself and allowed the boy to speak.

"'Kay." He brightly trotted besides him, blue eyes dark in the night, "Are you guys soldiers? Or mercenaries?" The openness was sweet and innocent to Yuan's ears, until the boy added, "Are you his servant or something?" Bitterly, Yuan's eyes narrowed and he could see Mithos' eyes dart across him to Kratos. Apparently Kratos had been listening more than Yuan thought, because the spectacular glare made Mithos jump back in surprise and fear.

"We're _both _soldiers." Yuan felt the ice slipping into his tone unnecessarily. Mithos blanched visibly, even in the dark. "We're friends." He felt the need to add. The boy shuffled his feet awkwardly.

"I just thought- well," He scratched the back of his head, "I've never really heard of a half-elf soldier before." Yuan's face softened and he cocked his head to the side.

"Wouldn't you rather be a soldier than a servant?" Yuan fixed his still damp ponytail, while Mithos seemed to be thinking deeply.

"They're the same thing." He suggested boldly. "If you don't want to fight, and you have to, then you're no better than a servant to the government." Yuan shook his head.

"A true point, but I'm trying to get a different one across." Yuan met his eyes, "Don't let anyone tell you what to be- do what you want and prove them wrong." Mithos seemed to recoil back into himself on that and Yuan let him think. As half-elves, both the boy and the woman must've had their share of discrimination, and he wouldn't hold the thought against either of them.

* * *

Mithos did his best not to gape at Yuan. What radical way of thinking did these strangers employ? He couldn't tell whether or not they might be joking. Quite simply, the mentality was too good to be true. How could they expect him to achieve what he wanted to while also facing discrimination? He didn't see an enemy in them, but he certainly was surprised by their closeness. A half-elf and a human embarking on travel together was not too peculiar, but both claiming to be _friends_- that was unheard of.

The human fascinated him. Somehow he captured an unstable kind of danger in his almost unassuming demeanor, yet as much as Mithos wanted to be able to antagonize him, he couldn't. There was no way he trusted him, but he also couldn't find the will to hate him like he felt he should. 'Kratos' had come across as blunt to the point of rudeness, yet so formal that he seemed genuinely put off by Mithos' own questions. Mithos didn't know what to think.

Sensing the newcomer's mana signatures had thrown him for a loop. At first he had thought the half-elf's mana was the powerful, exceptionally bright signature. Now that he had zeroed in on it, he found it to be the human's of all people. Yuan's was formidable to be sure, but the chaotic energy within Kratos was sharp and tasted metallic on his tongue- strong on a different scale. Whatever the case, these two were unusual in every regard. He couldn't anticipate their actions, and he got the feeling they were trying to teach him life-lessons.

Then there was the matter at hand. The human could no longer speak.

Mithos was interested in the sudden change, but what drew his attention even more was how Yuan rushed to the auburn haired man's side and danced about attentively. The human clearly didn't like being the focus of his anxiety, but he didn't have a choice in the matter. It was clear that the half-elf cared for him. Mithos didn't understand that much.

He must have a type of Stockholm syndrome.

For the moment, he continued to watch them closely. The dark would lift soon in favor of daybreak, and by then they could be back in Sybak again. He wouldn't pretend to understand the issue that had just passed; he only knew that he was instilled with something akin to power. Later, he'd have to test it, but for now he was weary and worn out from mana usage. His limbs hung limply from exhaustion, yet he felt stronger. The light that had touched him felt as if it was absorbed into his very being, spreading throughout his entire body.

So many things were changing at once- he was eager to see where it might take them.

The sun peaked over the tree line ahead of them, and the maelstrom had passed. With a pale light slowly drifting over the landscape, Mithos couldn't help but feel that the worst was behind them.

* * *

**(A/N) Okay guys- here's the deal! I recently got my brother into fanfic! YES! His profile name is Malchezzar, and I helped him out with grammar and the plot of his new Symphonia-Xillia crossover story. Since it's a crossover, nobody really sees it unless they're looking, so check it out for me, kay? Don't want him to get discouraged XD. Tales of Xillia is a great game, and I enjoyed it, but c'mon. It ain't my precious Symphonia! His story is Tales of Xillia: Salvation, and you can find him on my fav author page. Please drop by and toss him a review if you wanna!**

**Review? Thanx for reading as always! x)**


	23. Chapter 23

**(A/N) Another chap out, but only on time because I am a serious procrastinator. Gonna go write about 3 essays now... anyway, thanx to those of you who checked out my bro's story, it means alot. Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I own what I own, and Symphonia is not one of those things (I am aware that was semantically null)**

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_**Chapter**__**23**_

* * *

The trip back to Sybak was uneventful in comparison to the events that had just come to pass, but Yuan was oddly okay with that. The clearing skies opened up to a cool, dewy dawn with the smell of petrichor hanging in the air. He was tired, but his body had long since come up with coping mechanisms for sleep since he began traveling with Kratos. It was one of the things he could always count on the Tethe'allan for- a fast journey pace, and interesting times. It didn't seem as if the man went looking for trouble, but every other week it was something new. Out of their control, too.

Yuan let his eyes trail the forest pathway while he thought. Tracing over roots and dead leaves, he kept flicking his gaze back up to the quiet man at his side. What aspect could suppress his ability to talk? It was a strange and out-of-place vulnerability- almost like a handicap. He wished any semblance of emotion would cross Kratos' face, just so that he knew there was surprise, or anger, or something underneath the mute exterior. It was the recently distant look to his best friend's expression that drew his concern the most. He felt as if he was losing the personality to a stoic and unfeeling replacement, and Yuan was beginning to fear that the Kratos he met was slipping away. How could the exsphere change him so? Granted, even as a boy he was never, what was it? _Loquacious_ as he put it. But this silence was different than the stubborn and prideful ones. This silence was lasting and altering and cold.

He hated the suspicion he had recently confirmed. Kratos expected this to happen. But he'd kept it to himself, and decided Yuan shouldn't know anything of the matter. He knew there were secrets dredging up under the surface, but he also knew that at some point along the way he had been lied to. _Lied_ to. It stung, but Yuan knew he would forgive him as soon as a valid explanation was given- if one ever was.

Yuan noted at the least the man had the good sense to look mildly guilty, only noticeable in the manner he held his shoulders and the line of his mouth. Still it was something Yuan picked up on and found solace in.

Sybak- the nostalgic little place he'd only been to once in his life- was just beyond a meadow-like clearing ahead, and Yuan looked forward to reaching it. He needed this to be resolved, not for his sake, but for Kratos'.

Mithos had blatantly taken to following them both from a short distance and examining their backs with a sort of scowling disapproval. Yuan almost found it amusing, and doubly so by the fact that the boy appeared to think they didn't notice it at all. Mithos was a curious one- made mysterious by some long lost legendary power, but made childish by his scorn for new ideas. Contradictions were a part of his demeanor, often acting younger than his age in the form of eagerness or brashness, but also weathered under the prospect of seeing the negatives of the world at every turn. The occasional clever, or snide remark was always equally matched by a naive assumption that revealed an abstract way of thinking. Yuan found him interesting, but also insufferable.

His sister on the other hand- she was an entirely different story. After the shock of Kratos' condition had worn off, and before the worry had set completely in, Yuan had met her brilliant green eyes. They were brimming with passion and intellect, the depths of which were enchanting. He had never been put off by a pretty face before, yet he felt as if it was just _her_, that got to him. Appearance aside, her very presence was something that made him both uncomfortable and excited all at once. When she spoke it was not hesitant, it was decisive. She was driven. She was distracting.

The gates of town appeared below them when they covered the peak of a shallow hill, the Fooji Mountains broke the horizon in the distance, and Yuan felt a little more at ease.

Somehow things just kept getting more complicated.

* * *

Kratos could do little else than keep silent as they purposefully strode through town. Xilia could see his shoulders tensing in anticipation of the questions to come, as they warily entered the dimmer setting that was her old research institute.

Xilia fixed an intense stare on him and he bore the weight easily, waiting patiently for it to begin. Yuan was watching her agitatedly and even Martel and Mithos appeared interested in whatever was to come.

"So the exsphere is definitely the problem?" She asked dumbly, pursing her lips into a frown. Yuan's patience evidently did not match Kratos'.

"Yes, of course it is! Didn't you see it glowing? Now that he _can't talk_, it would be excellent if you could remove the parasite that makes it so." The sardonic reply was met with an ill-prepared silence and a second appraisal of the blue-haired halfling by Kratos in near astonishment. From what Xilia could tell the first time they'd met, Yuan's sarcasm may be duly noted at times, but it was always far from cutting. That had changed. Xilia seemed immune to his odd form of pleading as she eyed the man her old charge had become.

He'd been gone so long that his maturation wasn't a shock, yet she still found the transformation uncanny. He was taller and of a sturdier frame than before, but those weren't the characteristics that drew her eyes. He was hardened and reserved, and he'd perfected his blank facade to the point where no flaws allowed his inner self to be seen. She'd be better off examining a wall for an emotional response.

"I can't very well fix it if I don't understand the entirety of the problem," she sighed after some searching, "I need to know all of your symptoms. It has to be more than this for me to make sense of it." Xilia now directed her words at the mute swordsman while slipping him a pad of paper. She did not miss how the russet eyes flashed up to Yuan's almost apologetically as he begrudgingly accepted a writing utensil. Yuan caught the unease and seemed confounded.

"Symptoms? I've told you already- you've seen it. He can't speak. That's it, now take it off!" His concern and protectiveness was somewhat endearing, yet Kratos held up a hand to silence him anyways. His other hand scratched a quick response down on the paper. Appearing thoughtfully hesitant, he added a final word and grimaced slightly upon returning the page to the researcher.

Xilia's eyes widened as her gaze flitted over the words. He had written a succinct list that was nevertheless extreme. Aloud she read its contents.

"Loss of appetite and ability to sleep five years prior." She fleetingly remembered the unresolved hunger issue, "Gained mana proficiency and magic usage. More recently loss of feeling and inability to sense pain or blood loss. Loss of vocality." Xilia paused and reexamined him. Was he even considered human anymore? Lastly she spotted a messily scrawled word at the bottom.

"Wings." _Wings?_

* * *

Yuan's jaw dropped, but it didn't stay there for long.

"What the _hell_? That's ludicrous." Kratos didn't meet his eyes, and instead remorsefully glanced down at the floor. Yuan didn't know which part he should be worried most about. Why hadn't he said anything?

"Five years prior?" he managed to croak out the first thing that struck his mind. These 'problems' had been going on for that long? A curt nod from the red head confirmed it. While Yuan began to cross and double cross his memories of any peculiar behavior, Mithos pulled a chair closer to Kratos and stared at him.

"Can I see them?" Mithos blurted out before anyone had given any of the symptoms much thought. "The wings, can I see them?" He repeated the rather juvenile request. Another pause was followed by the whisper of pen on paper.

"I have not tried using them since the initial discovery." Yuan read aloud, and something suddenly clicked.

"That was when you- oh Mana, Kratos. That was ages ago!" The reprimand in his voice was overshadowed perceptibly by his long sought after answer. Kratos refused to talk about the Latheon Gorge incident, whether it was about his survival or the destruction wrought. Yuan never did figure out how he ended up on the Sylvaranti side, let alone survived the fall he obviously had to endure in order to reach the bottom of the chasm. Wings would never have crossed Yuan's mind and they still seemed implausible now. Mithos was ignorant to his discovery and adamantly pioneered on.

"So, try again." His eyes were bright and widely opened to the point where they looked comically captivated. Yuan scowled. Kratos was not some kind of exotic animal to gawk at, regardless of his unfortunate situation. The swordsman gave his customary frown, but it quickly evolved into a quirked eyebrow at Xilia's insistent nod. Yuan smirked at the air of familiarity. At least Kratos' body language never changed. Stiffly he stood and everyone inched closer to watch, even Yuan.

The man looked uncomfortable, but he shut his eyes briefly in apparent concentration. A single deep exhale later, Yuan was thunderstruck. Brilliant wisps of aqua light swept across his shoulders and extended into tufts of mana-composed feathers. Splendidly arched into a wide wingspan, Yuan was shocked by how bright they were, and their immediacy. Mithos was taken aback and his mouth hung open a moment. With the fantastic light blossoming from Kratos' wings behind him, the messy auburn hair contrasted sharply and hid his face. Yuan could understand how odd such a foreign extension might be, but this was on too magnificent a scale to be disappointed with.

"It's like you're an angel." Martel spoke softly from behind him. Yuan had been so absorbed in his friend's plight that he almost forgot how close she was. She had said what they were all thinking, but before the words were out of her mouth, Kratos' wings dissipated in a single flash and he roughly sat down again, yanking the pad of paper back to scribble furiously. Xilia was still blinking in a state of awe, but when the words were pushed into her hands, she adjusted her glasses to read them.

Yuan could see over her shoulder, two short words that looked hastily written and dead serious.

'Fix it.'

* * *

Mithos rubbed his shoulder sheepishly while the others talked, never breaking his gaze from the adroit swordsman. Xilia had screwed up spectacularly in the past, it seemed, because the peculiarity of this situation was unmatched. The pad of Kratos' words sat on the table in front of him, and his eyes flicked once over all of the symptoms. It was so strange, yet intriguing all at once. He could never imagine not needing to eat or sleep, or talk or feel. The wings were a field of their own, and Mithos was disappointed when the man put them away. Not needing to and not being able to do something was different, though.

How numb and painful must it have been to lose so much? It was a separate degree of suffering to lose the ability to suffer properly. He wondered if the man's icy calm was just a product of his deadness, or if it was some kind of stoic strength that kept him going. Either way, as a human he was most certainly unlike the rest- and if he was truthful, he could even cast magic. Mithos had begun to doubt his first impression of the man; he had to respect someone who could tolerate so much with so little complaint. Even his 'friend' was oblivious to what was going on. Mental fortitude was something Mithos could respect, if only a little. He could at least inspect further before forming a full opinion about the new arrivals.

Xilia was examining the sharply cut stone planted in Kratos' hand with some sort of device that had been sitting on her desk for as long as he could remember. He honestly didn't think it had a use until now.

"It looks like the stone's under incredible strain, and to cope is robbing you of some of your mana in order to reinforce itself." She decided after a while and after the periodic clicking of the complicated interface. Mithos crinkled his nose.

"So why is it taking his energy?" He asked directly, surprising Martel to his left with his interest. His sister's complexion was like that of a pleased parent. Egged on by the unspoken praise, he waited for the researcher to continue.

"Like I said earlier, the mana filtration aspect is not meant for humans. It seems that whenever you cast magic, or use any of your enhanced mana-related abilities, instead of your body fixing the mana into the desired form, your energy is sifted through the stone instead. The end result is the same, but humans have an inherent inability to control their own mana in comparison with those of elven blood. Even the aspects of the transformation that don't appear to be magic-based really are. You're sharpened vision is a result of increased mana circulation in the eyes, and hearing is the same way. The Crystal is carrying the weight of all of these changes, because by filtering your mana it is also growing stronger." Her explanation made some sense to the blonde halfling, but he was still confused. Kratos jotted down a note quickly while she was paused.

"It's because the benefits were too great that the exsphere could no longer sustain the cycle without reducing mana in other regions?" Xilia read aloud, "Why yes, that's perfectly correct. You could likely no longer feel hunger, nor need food because the Crystal fixed the mana to the desired type of energy to sustain you in order to bypass what energy was needed for your digestive tract. Similarly, sleep loss could be a result of reduced mana flow in parts of the brain only used in slumber. Somehow, by cutting off what might be deemed 'unnecessary' functions, the Cruxis Crystal could maintain the cycle and do what it was intended to do while still keeping you alive." An air of disapproval radiated from Yuan, and Mithos was beginning to think that he truly did feel camaraderie with the human. Kratos only nodded thoughtfully. Pen was put to paper again.

"So assuming removal at this stage is a last ditch effort, is there a way to nullify the effects completely, or filter one's own mana?" Yuan asked while peering over his companion's shoulder. Mithos was taken aback yet again by how easily the human discussed the next level of thinking. He was fluent in researcher speak apparently. That was where Martel stepped in while Xilia seemed thoughtful.

"Well, the fundamental difference between those with elven blood and those with human blood is the ability to harness mana- the exsphere acted as an in between process that elves and half-elves already naturally control. I've never even heard of a human casting magic before, but it is likely that you recently crossed a threshold in which the exsphere could just no longer sustain itself without drawing on your supplies deeper than before. A crash and burn kind of reaction that progressed slowly and then rapidly again from what you mentioned seems the case," Martel thought aloud, "if you could filter your own mana, then all of your symptoms should disappear. I would by no means recommend a second exsphere, but something of a different sort could do the trick." Martel's words of wisdom gave Xilia a much needed epiphany, if the widening of her eyes was anything to go by.

"Aionis." She clasped her hands together and looked to see if Martel knew what she spoke of. Mithos had never heard the word before, but Martel cocked her head to the side.

"The ore from Derris Kharlan?" She asked curiously, Mithos and Yuan lost from whatever they were saying.

"You mean the moon? We can't very well go to the moon." Yuan was oblivious to the train of thought, but that didn't mean he wasn't still sensible.

"Well, the elves were said to have descended from Derris Kharlan thousands of years ago, bringing with them the Great Seed and planting themselves in the Holy Ground of Kharlan- named for their past, deteriorating home." Yuan nodded, everyone knew that. "The elves could use their life's energy like no other human could because Derris Kharlan was of a different composition than Symphonia, there the very minerals had an essential quality that was like a mana-filter. It fixed mana much like roots can fix Nitrogen into the proper form. Aionis is plentiful on Derris Kharlan, and the elves that lived there had high quantities of it in their systems from birth because of it." That was where Xilia picked up and continued.

"Aionis intermingled with their blood made it hereditary- diluting slightly with generations that lived away from the planet, but still incredibly concentrated. If you ingested Aionis, then you would be on the level of elves or half-elves. Your exsphere would function without any of the negative side effects." Mithos was impressed by the solution, but there was just one problem.

"We don't have moon rocks, Martel." He looked pointedly at his sister, and she smiled at the way he put everything in laments terms.

"But when the elves came down, meteor showers were common and plentiful. Fragments of the dying planet crashed through the atmosphere. Surely there's a crater somewhere in Kharlan that contains ample supplies of Aionis. From what I know, they're also well known landmarks. We should have no trouble finding one."

"We?" Yuan asked uncertainly, "I was not under the impression that any of you were tied to this matter like Kratos and I are." Mithos also pinned a inquisitive look on his sister. Hopefully she approved of a second adventure. He'd even put up with Xilia if he got to travel on a quest such as this one.

"Of course 'we'," Martel acted as if it was a logical conclusion, "To be completely honest with myself, you both saved us from a rather gruesome fate back in the temple. It would be only fair that we assist you with your own difficulties as you stepped in at an uncanny time during our own." Martel shrugged.

"It's rather curious, as well. You two said you were soldiers?" Martel continued. Yuan nodded with the same degree of uncertainty as before, "Yet you travel alone and go about your own business. I've not heard of such things, nor have I heard of such good relationships between the Tethe'allan military and half-elves." He deflated slightly, slumping in his chair as if she was asking all the right questions. Yuan said nothing, whereas Kratos was as blank a page as ever; the two were cryptic from anyone's point of view.

"I'm not prying- it's just interesting." Mithos watched Yuan's cheeks tint slightly and was unsure how to interpret that. He jumped to conclusions.

"So we're all going to the continent of Kharlan to search for craters?" he wished that he couldn't hear the excited hope in his voice, or maybe that it wouldn't be so noticeable, but he stood from his chair reenergized and ecstatic at the prospect in spite of the risk of looking like a little kid.

"It would seem so." Yuan hummed blandly as he got up as well, dwarfing Mithos' short figure while standing to his full height.

* * *

Kratos numbly followed, ill-at-ease with the situation even though he had no argument otherwise. It didn't sit well with him that they were taking a number of people that they were likely going to put in harm's way. Perhaps his required quiet allowed Yuan to read him even better than before, because the man shook his head at Kratos' puckered brow.

"Don't worry about it- for the most part we've seen that Martel and Mithos can handle themselves. Xilia can't be that hard to keep in the back. It'll work out, no problem." Kratos shrugged noncommittally. He seemed to be the only one that doubted the sense of people that had gotten themselves into such a tight spot before he and Yuan arrived. But then again, here _he_ was irresponsibly letting his Cruxis Crystal develop while he could have returned sooner. Maybe they all had great lack of foresight.

"When do we depart?" Xilia asked neutrally, replacing the device she'd used to scan the exsphere back on the work station.

"As soon as possible," Yuan was fast to decide, "If what you all said is true, then simply hearing and seeing can impact how the exsphere works. Those aren't things he can avoid. I'd rather not wait for something worse to happen." There was a general consensus to his reasoning, and those living in Sybak went to gather their things.

"Meet back here in fifteen minutes." Martel told them all while she and Mithos were in the process of leaving for the inn. Xilia went upstairs to get her own things, and soon Yuan and Kratos were left alone.

"Wanna go sightseeing?" Yuan joked half-heartedly. After the odd look he received he continued on unperturbed, "Yes, in Sybak. I can't sit still right now." That was saying something considering they'd not stopped the night before for rest. Kratos shook his head, though and leaned against the frame of the doorway.

The silence was the worst kind, not quite mistrusting, but giving the feeling that Yuan could now openly doubt him. He should after how Kratos had hidden everything from him, the Tethe'allan reasoned. Yuan was taking it lightly, but Kratos couldn't tell if it was a crumbling facade or a genuine effort to put it behind them. Either way, Yuan's behavior was strained at best and he was beginning to worry Kratos.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Yuan inquired weakly after a while, and Kratos was content that they were getting to the point and not beating around the bush like they were accustomed to doing. Pen put to paper, Kratos wrote out patiently.

'I didn't want a repeat of the Hima incident' the words were flashed at Yuan and the half-elf crinkled his brow.

"I didn't overreact _that _badly, did I?" Yuan crossed his arms. Kratos rolled his eyes and easily continued where he left off.

'Yes, you did. I might have told you otherwise.' Yuan scowled deeply.

"Either way, this isn't the kind of thing you can keep to yourself. Even if you didn't trust me when it all began, you should've known well enough after the first year that I was on your side." The small amount of hurt was covered nicely by his instructional approach, so Kratos let it slide. He made no move to continue writing, so Yuan kept his train of thought.

"What reason would you have to hide it? We would have simply gone back to Tethe'alla to get it fixed and then- oh." The thoughtful pause made Kratos groan internally. "You didn't want to go back to Tethe'alla?" The auburn man's eyes narrowed. Yuan was on dangerous territory now. His personal life, though quite intertwined with the Sylvaranti's, was still very private. Dredging up long past deeds that he'd been careful not to give too much thought to would only breed an argument, or worse remorse. He again made no motion to answer Yuan's remark. The halfling sensed his discomfort and uncrossed his arms, considerably lightening the mood.

"You must really like my company then!" His falsetto enthusiasm was accompanied by a chuckle and a pat on the back, a gesture Kratos would usually have brushed off, but was endured just this once. His hand directed the utensil to form words again on the paper he flipped to Yuan.

'You flatter yourself.' The man snorted loudly before Xilia came crashing down the staircase with a full pack and a flustered appearance.

"I'm all ready to go!" She chimed lightly, looking at them oddly for a moment, "Aren't you going to bring anything else? We'll be on a boat for a while after the brief walk to the port." Yuan shook his head.

"All we need to bring is a little bit of gald and our weapons. It's served us well in the past." He shrugged as his attention was drawn to the door where Martel and Mithos filed back into the room. A small pack slung over the boy's shoulder told Kratos that they packed light as well. All the better for a journey.

"It looks like we're all set." Martel sized everyone up. "Should we run to the port and try to catch the midday ship out? We can rest as soon as we're aboard." Xilia seemed the most tired of them all, ironically, so everyone nodded their approval of the plan. It was a short distance to the coast, anyways.

* * *

Despite being tired, Mithos was pumped up and ready to go. He hadn't been back in Kharlan in ages, and the prospect of returning was an odd one, but still welcome. He trailed out the research facility behind the others. Taking particular care to watch the red headed human again. His body urged a yawn out before he could suppress it, and he hopped into step besides Kratos.

"So you're not even tired?" Mithos felt that might be a benefit right about now. He said he couldn't sleep right? Yuan at his side looked up expectantly as well for the answer.

Kratos merely shook his head stolidly, and Mithos was disappointed until Yuan added some insight.

"You said you stopped sleeping five years ago- that had to be around or after the time we met back up again. I could've sworn you slept like a rock that night, though. I can't remember a moment since then, when you went out that fast." Kratos inclined his head in acknowledgement, as if to admit a truth.

"Was that the last time you slept?" An indifferent nod spurred Mithos' thoughts. To never ever sleep must be exhausting- yet not tiring? Nights must be so long for him, Mithos concluded. It was quite a feat to hide such an issue for so long. Yuan seemed saddened for some reason, but Mithos just found it fascinating.

"You did wake up early that day." Yuan finalized the conversation and they all slipped into silence, Martel and Xilia ahead chatting about the route they would take. Mithos kept a firm grip on his kendama and eyed Kratos' sheath, where his hand rested calmly. Yuan's weapon was nowhere to be seen, but Mithos had watched curiously when he summoned it the first time, so there was no mystery there. Still, both of them wielded the blades expertly and Mithos had promised long ago to learn swordplay whenever the opportunity arose.

Maybe one of them would be willing to teach him. Kratos' sword was the traditional kind that he would be more comfortable with, and he didn't know where to begin thinking about fighting with a double edged weapon like Yuan's. It was wishful thinking, though, so Mithos banished the idea quickly.

Instead of internal musing, he settled for getting to know them. No one could deny that they were mysterious.

"I wonder why the Cruxis Crystal gave him wings." He pondered aloud, "Aren't they intended to boost abilities that someone already has?" Kratos looked unresponsive, or perhaps he simply recognized that it would be troublesome to write out an answer to such a vague question. Yuan instead kept the thread of conversation going.

"His does more than enhance abilities, as far as I know, he was testing one for the royal bloodline- so it was supposed to make someone the perfect soldier. One with all of the strengths of both humans and half-elves and none of the weaknesses that come with one or the other." Yuan sounded as if the idea was a stupid one, or maybe a selfish one- Mithos couldn't tell.

"Well, that sure backfired." Mithos decided simply, noticing how the corner of Kratos' mouth quirked up as if he might laugh. It was interesting that he found his own situation amusing. The easy silence was made complete when Martel and Xilia stopped ahead before guiding them down a well-worn pathway to the coast. The trees were thinner out here, and he could see the flatness of the landscape sloping downwards. The sea would soon be upon them.

* * *

Xilia and Martel had ceased talking when they found the main route, and Xilia conjectured that they were both in deep thoughts of their own. The subject she'd put to the back of her mind was wrenched back up again when she heard Yuan mention 'royal bloodline' off behind them.

He was referring to the Cruxis Crystal, of course, but Xilia was reminded of much more.

Kratos was clearly Daisuke's real name- he made no move to hide it after Yuan had let it slip. Kratos had a perfect mana signature for the Aurion bloodline. Kratos had appeared in Sybak around the precise time that King Aurion's son had gone missing. He had disappeared the same time as the funeral. The coincidences were stacking on top of each other like pieces of a puzzle. The boy had been unique, but clearly well educated. Now she could no longer ignore the logical conclusion.

Kratos was Kratos Aurion- the missing prince and heir to Tethe'alla's failing throne. Questions bubbled up that she _needed_ answered, but she found no way to ask them. Where had he been all these years? Why had he left? Most importantly, why wasn't he intervening to mend the impossible tug of power between the monarch, his own sister, and the increasingly stronger military? Tethe'alla was ripping itself to shreds, and Sylvarant was waiting patiently for it to happen.

The strangest sensation was the idea that a man of royal blood was not acting it. Sure he was respectful and strong, but she was under the first impression that he was an ordinary person. He could still be an ordinary person. So what made royalty any better than peasantry? Maybe that was what Kratos protested. The benign King Aurion before his death had ruled firmly and justly in all opinions, but maybe a single person shouldn't be in charge- if they were only as fit as anyone else. That idea shook up her entire perspective on the social ladder. Nobility were just fortunate by birth and not inherently better than the rest. Even the company Kratos kept- a half-elf, he treated like an equal.

She kept her mouth shut though. Despite the fact she was certain of Kratos' past life, she knew near to nothing of his current one. Obviously he did not want to be treated any differently than a normal person, so she would do her best to not see him differently. However, she couldn't stop the feelings of guilt and horror that coiled around her stomach when she realized her mistakes in exsphere research had negatively impacted the very person the finished product was meant for. How was _she_ supposed to know?

The small port of Limani was within view, the great abyss of water stretching as far as the eye could see beyond. The sun was almost at full mast, but the remnants of fog drifted over the sea and clung to the horizon. A few large boats and those belonging to fisherman were docked by the pier, lovely wooden bows with great posts rising up and supporting flapping canvas sails. The monsoons would serve them well if they could catch one of the ships before they departed.

Mithos had caught sight of their destination and quickened his speed, pulling Martel ahead with him while Kratos and Yuan stole silently behind.

Kharlan awaited.

* * *

**(A/N) Sorry if that was a bit more boring than usual- I had to lay out a bit of the technical stuff. My interpretations only, not guaranteed fact from the game! Thanx for reading! Review?**


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